Can't Keep Running
by stress
Summary: Part IV of the Soul Mates Series: It's been five years since the strike, seven since she learned Jack's true history and nine since she said goodbye to Rip. What's in store next for Stress & Jack? Marriage? A Family? Or worse?
1. Luke returns

Title: _Can't Keep Running_

Summary: _It's been five years since the strike, seven since she learned Jack's true history and nine since she said goodbye to Rip – what's in store next for Stress & Jack? Marriage? A Family? Or the return of the one she fears above all others?_

Author's Note: _This, at last, is the fourth installment of my series. This story is now three and a half years in the making – I actually wrote the first three chapters last March! However, I feel that this is an appropriate time to continue to story of Jack & Stress. Just like the earlier stories, some topics of discussion are meant for a mature audience. Also, I have researched the time period and am trying to remain as close to historical accuracy as is possible. For example, though it was near to impossible, in a practical sense, for cohabitation to occur circa 1900, it did happen; though only one percent of white children were born to women out of wedlock, such also happened – especially those of the lower class._

Disclaimer: _As I've said countless times before, and I'm sure I'll say it countless times again, I, sadly, do not own any of the newsies. They are © 1992- to Disney, as hard as I try to get them for myself. I do, however, own Jessa/Stress, Luke/Rip, Caitlin/Spindle and Tyler/Danger. Any other character is property of the author I've borrowed them from._

Soul Mates Series: _This is the fourth installment in _Stress & Jack: Soul Mates Series_. It is preceded by Cuts Like a Knife (I), Secrets Behind the Lies (II) and One Year Anniversary (III), in case you would like to read the earlier chapters in their lives. There is also an author's cut of CLAK (Obsession: Cuts like a Knife), as well as Rip's story, A Virgin's Touch._

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**July 30, 1904**

_Prologue_

--

Slowly, with a hint of laziness due to the muggy temperature that was no better than it had been prior to the sunset, the man drew a silver pocket watch from underneath his crisp, white button-down shirt. A brief look of annoyance flashed across his icy blue eyes as he read the time: 11:35. His aloof expression changing into a scowl which marred his handsome features, Luke Divenize removed the hat from his jet colored hair and wiped his brow in frustration. Danger was late.

Not that he was sure that he should have believed Tyler Harrison, anyway. It had been seven years since he had left him, bleeding, on the floor of the Rockaway Lodging House for Newsboys. And, though it had been Caity – _Spindle_ – who had stabbed him, Luke was not sure if Danger truly forgave him for their teenage antics. However, when Luke received the letter postmarked New York and signed by Tyler 'Danger' Harrison, with the promise of _interesting_ information should Luke venture back to New York, Luke assumed that the past was behind him. After all, they were both grown men with their own lives: Luke, a successful rancher from out West, and, from what he found out through various contacts in the city, Tyler, a small-time bookie taking bets at Sheepshead Races.

Now, here he was, on the exact day, place and time that Danger requested they meet with one flaw: Danger was not here.

Or was he? Just as Luke placed his watch back into his trouser pocket a shadow fell at his feet. A moment later, a tall, broad-shouldered man with slicked back brown hair approached the corner and ducked into the secluded nook just off Eleventh Street, his hand outstretched. "Luke, it's been quite some time," he said in a husky voice, shaking Luke's tan hand vigorously.

Luke raised an eyebrow. When he lived in Harlem, and later, Queens, he went by an alias – all the newsboys in the area he grew up in did. How, then did Danger know his name?

Danger seemed to know exactly what Luke's expression meant. "Yes, my friend, I've broken beneath the shell and have found the true man. Let me see… You are Luke Divenize, married to Caitlin Scott, once called 'Spindle', both aged 25. Mr. and Mrs. Divenize are the proprietors of the Ranch _di_ _Nuovo_ _Inizio_," he said, butchering the Italian language as he tried to sound knowledgeable, "in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Need I go on?" he asked cheekily.

"How—"

"How do I know, Luke? Simple. I got connections, you know. Remember Rocky? He goes by Mark Johnson now. Anyway, he returned back East about a year ago. Had some real _interesting_ information for me when I ran into him down at Sheepshead's. Told me all about what happened after you guys left Queens all them years ago."

Luke nodded. It made sense that Rocky would talk; they could, even as kids, never keep his quiet. "So you seem to know all about me, _Tyler_," Luke said, with a slight chuckle before continuing, "and, if that's the case, then this information you promised me must be really worth my while."

Danger smiled and clapped Luke on the back with one of his massive hands; on a normal man, such an action would have brought him to his knees. Luke, however, hardened by long hours in both the California and New Mexico suns, stood firm. "Luke, I'm twelve kinds of flattered that you would take the train all the way back here just for something I had to say."

"Your letter did impress upon me an urgency that I felt would be better dealt with in person, as your note suggested," Luke replied, icily, eager to get to the point. It would only be a matter of time before his wife's jealousy got the best of her and she followed him back East. And, as difficult as it had been to get her to give up their silly childhood notions of revenge against his former lover while they were thousands of miles away in New Mexico, Luke was not sure he could persuade her from seeking her old rival out back in New York.

Danger rubbed his hands eagerly together, the greedy look on his face sharpened by the moon's illumination. "How about we go get a drink, pal. Then we can get to business?"

"Business?" asked Luke, with an edge to his voice. "Who said anything about business? I think that I'd like to hear your information here and now."

Just like that, any upper hand Danger believed he had had vanished – all at once, he was fifteen again and at the mercy of an older, stronger boy. Subconsciously, Danger began to rub his left arm, the arm that still bore a scar from Spindle's knife; he knew that tone of Luke's voice – it was the tone it held when he gave the order to Spindle to strike down Danger. "Of course, Luke. It's just that, you see—"

Luke turned his back on Danger for a moment, his eyes searching the nearly empty dust filled streets. Slowly, then, he spun back and leered up at Danger, a man at least five inches taller than he was. "Let me guess, Harrison, you've gotten into a spot of trouble with some of your bookie pals. Yes," he added when Danger flinched, "it seems that I am, too, in touch with a few contacts. I believe that, from Rocky, you found out that I am not without wealth these days. I also think that you believed it possible to take any information I might find enlightening and try to sell it to me. Is that not the business you refer to?"

"I, well – um..."

"Harrison, stow it, alright?" Luke shook his head slightly before venturing out onto the street once more. Quietly withdrawing his pocket watch for the countless time that evening, he glanced at the hands: 11:43. Not even ten minutes had past since Danger had arrived and Luke was feeling his temper flare. As he placed his watch back into his trouser pocket his eyes raked the nearby block out of habit. Midnight dealings were a specialty of his and he only survived as long as he had and became as successful as he was by being cautious. Nodding to himself when he find that the streets were still empty, Luke turned to Danger and stated, in his cold manner, his own suspicions. "This has something to do with her, doesn't it?"

Danger began to open his mouth but stopped when Luke held up his left hand. While pointing at a golden band encircling his fourth finger, Luke continued, "As Rocky informed you, I married Caity – Spindle. She is my wife, Harrison. I moved on." Luke knew that Danger was thick; he need not know what sort of affect this promise of information had on the man. As long as the man bought the lies he might actually get to hear the information. He really did know Danger; one of his flaws, behind his stupidity, was his conscience – he might decide to keep his mouth shut.

"And she's a great one, I'm sure. It's just that—" Danger stumbled over his words. Maybe this wasn't a very smart thing to do after all.

Luke dropped his hand. "You found her, didn't you? You found Jessa?"

Danger nodded. "Yeah, Luke. And I wasn't even looking for her or nothing. It's just that a little bird I've been after was telling me about her friend and her friend's boss, some hoity-toity mug reporter. I wasn't minding nothing but getting with her but she mentioned the reporter – a Jack Kelly."

_Jack Kelly_. If there was one name that caused Luke to boil over, even now, it was that one.

Danger waited for some sign of recognition but Luke stood stoically against the brick wall. He paused another moment longer before continuing. "I heard the name, and it set warning bells off. In between smooches I got the whole story out of my pet. You see, my gal's friend seems to have it bad for Jack. But it seems he's got something going on with another girl in the office."

"Jessa?"

"Well, yeah. Now, I ain't too sure about all this, but it just seemed mighty strange to me that there was some bloke called Kelly hanging around Manhattan that had it for some gal named Jess. Real convenient-like, you know?"

_Jessa._ _Il mio cuore. _Luke covered both of his eyes with his hands, but, nonetheless, could not stop the visions of the thirteen year old vixen from passing before his eyes. True, it had been nine years since they had last met, but it seemed like mere moments now that his minds strayed back to her, something he had forced himself to stop doing once he wed Caitlin. She became the only woman for him – even if it was nothing more than a marriage of convenience (on his part at least). That meant no more stolen memories of Maria Divenize… or Jessa Rhian. But Caity was still in Albuquerque and Maria was long dead. Jessa was here – and she was alive.

Danger watched Luke grow agitated and quickly continued on with his tale. "Now, I knew that I should check this out for myself before sending for ya. Didn't think it right to have you travel all of this way for nothing."

"And?"

"It's her. I'd recognize her anywhere – looks just the same as she did when she was living back in Queens. Just bigger."

Luke kept facing Danger, but his icy blue eyes dazed over; Danger knew his thoughts were elsewhere at the moment. Danger himself was forced back to the past in that instant, remembering the last time he gave up Jess's whereabouts and the mess that betrayal had led to. Was it wrong for him to do it again? Was it wrong for him to destroy the life of an innocent woman just for a few quick dollars?

He had mere seconds to ponder those questions before the alert expression snapped back to Luke's handsome face; even in the pale moonlight, Danger caught glimpse of the cruel smile he remembered from his days in Queens. Suddenly, Danger knew that it had been a mistake. Just like the error in judgment he made at fifteen, Danger knew that he had just done wrong.

Luke, however, was not worried about Danger's recovering conscience. With a quick glance to the street, Luke took a step closer to Danger, drawing something silver out of his pocket as he went. "Tyler, did Jessa actually see you when you went down to her office?" he asked, a friendly tone finding its way into his low voice.

Assuming that the silver object was no more than Luke's pocket watch, Danger relaxed when the edge to Luke's voice disappeared; he was just jumpy due to being in a secluded alley in an empty part of the city, near midnight. "No, Luke, I made sure to watch from across the street where I couldn't be seen," he answered happily, ready to plunge ahead and ask for money now that he had offered Luke his information.

However, Danger never got the chance. "_Grazie mi __amico_," Luke whispered, his slight Italian accent slipping into his speech momentarily, before thrusting the silver dagger into Danger's side. As Danger gasped in shock and pain, Luke withdrew the blade and elbowed the weakened man, bringing him to his knees. Then, with a second motion, Luke plunged the knife into Danger's back. Danger gave one last shudder and fell to his side. He was dead.

Luke stepped over the large mass that had been a man and grinned slightly. It had been so long since he had been in charge; he missed the adrenaline rush that coursed through his frame when he was in control. Feeling giddy with power, Luke used the tip of his cowboy boot to roll Danger onto his back. He quickly did the sign of the cross and mumbled three Italian words under his breath: _Riposi_ _in Pace_. Then, with a few quick swipes, he carved three letters into the man's chest: RIP. Yes, it felt good to be back.

And it might just feel better to finally get back the one who got away. With a calm whistle, Luke pocketed the blade and, leaving the alley, began to head down Eleventh Street. His plan, seven years in the making, and five years forgotten, was finally in effect.


	2. Coffee grounds and the Wedding March

Title: _Can't Keep Running_

Summary: _It's been five years since the strike, seven since she learned Jack's true history and nine since she said goodbye to Rip -- what's in store next for Stress & Jack? Marriage? A Family? Or the return of the one she fears above all others?_

Disclaimer: _As I've said countless times before, and I'm sure I'll say it countless times again, I, sadly, do not own any of the newsies. They are © 1992- to Disney, as hard as I try to get them for myself. I do, however, own Jessa/Stress, Luke/Rip, Caitlin/Spindle and Tyler/Danger. Any other character is property of the author I've borrowed them from._

Soul Mates Series: _This is the fourth installment in _Stress & Jack: Soul Mates Series_. It is preceded by Cuts Like a Knife (I), Secrets Behind the Lies (II) and One Year Anniversary (III), in case you would like to read the earlier chapters in their lives._

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_Chapter One_

--

_Knock, knock._ "Hello? Anyone home?"

Opening her eyes slightly, trying to ignore the morning sunlight pouring in from the small apartment's only window, the twenty-two year old woman glanced at the wooden door across the room. Drawing the thin blanket up to her chin, Jessa Rhian reached over with one arm and tapped the back of the man in bed next to her.

"Jack?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Jack? I think there is someone at the door."

"Mm-hmm."

She waited a moment to see if he would rise. However, when the knocking became more insistent and Jack made no motion as to answer the door, the girl clipped back her golden-brown curls, pulled on a simple robe to cover her pale nightgown and made for the door. "Yes?" she croaked, her voice not yet rested from the previous night's activities. It seemed like only mere minutes since she and Jack had left the Phillips' wedding reception next door.

"Jess? It's me."

Shaking her head with a small smile, Jess opened the door. There, on the other side, stood a young woman, around Jess's age, with long, straight dark hair, bright blue eyes and a chipped cup in her slender hand.

"Hello, Ava. What will it be this morning? Sugar? Milk?" Jess asked as she stepped away from the door and pulled the robe tight around her.

"Actually, I could do with a cup of coffee grounds," Ava said with a grin as she entered the apartment. "You know how Michael gets when he doesn't get his caffeine."

"Let me guess," called Jack from across the room, still in bed, though now somewhat awake, "just as glum as he is when he does get his morning joe? Is it time for your morning visit already, Ava? Didn't the party just end?"

"And good morning to you, too, Jack," called Ava as she waved to the corner where the bed was stowed, before turning towards the wood burning stove in the far right corner of the one-room apartment. There stood Jess, rifling through a cupboard located adjacent to the stove. "Thanks, Jess. What with helping Filly with her wedding preparations and the extra washing I brought in this week, I did not have any extra time to run down to market."

"That's no problem, Ava. There's a marketplace just a few blocks away from _The Chronicle_ building. I usually make Jack stop there with me at least once a week when he's not on assignment," Jess said as she took Ava's cup and dipped it into a bag of coffee grounds before handing it back to her.

"You're a doll, Jess," Ava said, taking the cup back with a grin. "Now, I better get back and make Michael's coffee before he heads down to the factory. I'll see you tonight."

Jess walked Ava to the door and waited until she watched Ava enter her own apartment down the hall before closing the door and walking back inside. With a slight yawn, she shuffled to where Jack was still lying in bed. "Well, Jack, I think it's time we get ready. After all, didn't you tell Mr. Jenkins that you'd still be at the office bright and early today, even though the wedding party was last night? And remember, mister reporter, I ain't but a secretary down at the newspaper office and my boss expects at my desk by seven."

Shielding his eyes against the dawning sun, Jack smirked up at Jess. "Dave was at the wedding party himself last night, Jess. I doubt he'll be at the office before you get there."

"Yeah, well, that's beside the point. It's time to get up," she replied, her hands on her hips, but a grin creeping across her face; Jack was right: Dave had arrived at the party alone and proceeded to spend the evening in the company of several available young girls from the neighborhood. Though the floor on which Jess and Jack's apartment is located housed three other families: Ava & Michael Mackenzie, Rae & Patrick Conlon, and, now, Filly and Jason Phillips, many other families on different levels had young, single girls who were more than happy to keep a single, lonely man company at a wedding reception.

With an exaggerated sigh, Jack pulled himself up to rest on his elbows. "Yes, dear, I guess you're right."

Jess nodded once and turned away, satisfied that Jack was getting up to get dressed. "Of course I am," she replied before beginning to take off her own robe. But, after she pulled her arm out of the right sleeve, Jack leaned forward and, wrapping his arms around her middle, pulled her back onto the bed. "Jack..."

"Mm-hmm?" he asked, busy nuzzling his face against her silky robe.

Jess swatted him away from her back and, when he leaned away from her, she laid back against her pillow. "Jack..."

Jack sat up so that he was next to her. "Yes?"

She opened her mouth for a moment and paused. "Never mind. Let's just get ready." She tried to get back off of the bed, but Jack's hand on her arm stopped her.

"I think I know what this is about," Jack said, his eyes alert and awake now, without the hint of sleepiness that had been there during Ava's quick visit. "It's about the wedding yesterday, isn't it?"

"How did you guess?" she asked with a weak smile before laying back down on the bed, her head on Jack's bare chest.

Jack matched her smile as he played with a loose curl that had broke free from her clip. "Well, you've been acting weird all week, just like you did when Mike and Ava got married, when we got Spot and Rae to get hitched. Hell, you even went strange when Rae found out she was pregnant with Genna. I figured, now that Filly and Jason finally tied the knot, it was time for the issue to cross your mind."

She kept her head on his chest, his rhythmic breathing creating a sense of calm deep within her. "Jack, it's been five years now that we've been together. Why aren't we married?"

Jack's breathe quickened, but he was silent for a moment. "We've been through this before, Jess. We just can't afford to make it legal right now, ya know. I mean, we're comfortable right now, we live in a nice place and we both have good jobs. If you become my wife, you know that Mr. Jenkins will discharge you from the newspaper office. As it is, you only have your job because you work with Dave and old Man Jenkins has no idea that we're together."

It was Jess' turn to snuggle up against Jack. "I know. It's just that, with everyone I know getting married, I feel left out. And it ain't just Ava and Rae and Filly. They all just got hitched within the last few years or so. Remember the girls from Bottle Alley -- Bookie and Martini?" she asked, referring to her childhood friends by their old nicknames.

Jack chuckled as he rested his arms on her back. "Yeah, I remember those two. Didn't they run off with Blink and Race? What was that? Four years ago?"

"Yeah, all four of them eloped a year after the big strike. I haven't seen them all since then, but Ava got a postcard from Aurelia - Martini, a few weeks back. Seems they all settled down out west and had a couple of babies each. Jack, I want that," she finished with a whisper.

Jack rubbed her back, comfortingly. "I know, Jess, I know. As soon as we can afford it, we'll have that. But, for now, let's just be happy together. Alright?"

"Mm-hmm," she replied, in a precise imitation of Jack's own non-committal answers.

Jack laughed. "Whatever you say, Jess," he said, shaking his head, before tapping her on her back. "Come on. Up you get. Time to get ready for work."

"Oh," she said, smiling, as she sat up, "now it's time to go."

Jack returned her smile with a smirk. "Race you there," he challenged before jumping out of bed, glad to see that the marriage discussion was assuaged so easily this time. After Ava and Michael married two years ago, Jess had hummed the wedding march for two weeks straight.


	3. M for Murder

Title: _Can't Keep Running_

Summary: _It's been five years since the strike, seven since she learned Jack's true history and nine since she said goodbye to Rip -- what's in store next for Stress & Jack? Marriage? A Family? Or the return of the one she fears above all others?_

Disclaimer: _As I've said countless times before, and I'm sure I'll say it countless times again, I, sadly, do not own any of the newsies. They are © 1992- to Disney, as hard as I try to get them for myself. I do, however, own Jessa/Stress, Luke/Rip, Caitlin/Spindle and Tyler/Danger. Any other character is property of the author I've borrowed them from._

Soul Mates Series: _This is the fourth installment in _Stress & Jack: Soul Mates Series_. It is preceded by Cuts Like a Knife (I), Secrets Behind the Lies (II) and One Year Anniversary (III), in case you would like to read the earlier chapters in their lives._

--

_Chapter Two_

--

As they had ever since Jack arranged for Jess to work as secretary to his officemate and fellow reporter, David Jacobs, the pair made sure to arrive at separate times. The two had decided to keep their relationship hidden while at work in order to preserve their jobs; in fact, the only person who was aware that they were together was Jack's best friend, Dave, even if Cassandra, Jack's secretary, had her own suspicions.

It was Cassandra, a petite girl in her late teens with long brown hair, who was in the office when Jess arrived alone that morning. Cassandra raised her eyes from a large pile of paperwork on her desk, smiling, though, when she saw who had arrived, the smile was short-lived. "Good morning, Jessa," she said, her disappointment obvious.

Jess tried in vain to return any sort of smile before placing her handbag on her desk. "Hello, Cass," she replied, rolling her eyes once her back was to Cassandra. Though the existence of any relationship between Jack and Jess was denied, it was no secret that Cass had her eyes on her boss. While Jack found the infatuation flattering, Jess was only annoyed. She had the impression that Cassandra knew more than she let on, resulting in her rather dislike of Jess, a feeling that the older girl echoed.

A quiet flooded the cozy office, interrupted only slightly as Cassandra rifled through various papers and Jess pulled out her typewriter. Every few minutes or so, Jess had to bite back a sigh as she watched her opposite look hopefully out the office door. The girl was rewarded about ten minutes later when Jack sauntered in, a broad smile stretched across his handsome face. "Good morning, ladies," he said, with a special wink in Jess' direction.

Jess made to return his morning greet, but was beaten to it by Cassandra. "Morning, Mister Kelly."

"How are you, Cassandra," Jack asked, placing his brown hat onto his desk, before picking up various letters lying on his desk. "All is good?"

Cassandra nodded vigorously. "Yes sir."

"Good," he replied, absently, thumbing through his papers. "Have either of you seen Dave yet?"

Jess opened her mouth to answer but thought better of it. She glanced over at Cassandra's desk to see if she would try to answer first again; when she saw Cass smiling flirtatiously at the oblivious Jack, Jess spoke. "No, Mr. Kelly. I haven't seen Mr. Jacobs yet this morning."

Jack looked up momentarily from his paperwork and nodded. Jess met his eyes and smirked. Maybe Jack was right after all; maybe Dave had spent the night out.

The gaze was broken when Cassandra, noticing the wordless discussion between the two, cleared her throat. "Well, you see, Mr. Kelly, of course Jessa here didn't see Mr. Jacobs, she was late this morning. I, on the other hand, got here an hour early and was in time to see him rush off on assignment. Before he left, he mentioned that there was something that had been discovered downtown, and Mr. Jenkins wanted an article for the afternoon edition of the _Chronicle_. He also said that Mr. Jenkins left a brief assignment for you, Mr. Kelly, on your desk."

Jack placed his letters down, brushed his hat to the side and grabbed a second piece of paper. His eyes skimmed through the words quickly. Jack nodded as he read the last line and, after folding the memo in a square, placed it in his pocket. "Well, I gotta be going if I'm going to get this assignment done in time for the next edition," he announced, reaching for his hat. "Cassandra, be a dear and type up these letters while I'm gone. Oh, and I'm going to need a copy of the morning _World_. See what's going on in New York, you know."

Cassandra smiled as she reached on top of her desk. "I already got you a copy of the _World_, Mr. Kelly."

Jack paused and then returned her smile. "That was smart of ya, Cass. How about the _Journal_?"

She nodded, holding up another newspaper. "Yup."

Jack's smile wavered. "The _Sun_?"

Cassandra's face dropped, but she recovered quickly. "I'll get you a copy of the _Sun_ right away, Mr. Kelly."

Jack reached into his pants pocket and drew out a quarter. He tossed it gently to Cassandra, who caught it, and winked. "Buy it off the closest newsie you can find and let them keep the change."

Cassandra nodded eagerly before leaving behind her desk and exiting the office. Jack waited until she had begun to descend the stairs before approaching Jess. He reached over her desk, where she sat, and patted her hand. "You looked a little annoyed back there. Everything alright?"

She snorted. "I really can't get along with her, Jack. Everything about her just rubs me the wrong way -- especially the way she fawns all over you. _I got here an hour early... I'll get you a copy right away, Mr. Kelly... _honestly."

He gave her hand a final pat. "I kinda figured that was the reason you made that face, but Cass ain't that bad, Jess."

Jack turned back to his desk and grabbed a sharpened pencil. He set it behind his ear and began to head to the exit. Jess waited until he had turned back to her before she spoke. "Actually, Jack, I was a little taken aback at Cassandra's comment – did you hear that Dave has already been to the office?"

Jack turned around and gazed at her thoughtfully. "You know, I think you're right. She did say something about Dave, didn't she?"

Jess nodded, and then shrugged. "I guess it's to be expected. You know Dave, always hard at work."

"Yeah," Jack agreed, resting his hand on the office door handle, "especially since your pal, Grace walked out on him last year."

Grace Delaney, Jessa's childhood friend from their days in Queens, moved to Manhattan four years ago in order to follow her dream of becoming an actress. Upon arriving, she fell for David and, despite that, at the time, Jack was courting Sarah Jacobs, David's sister, and David, himself, was paired with Jess, Grace ended up together with him. In fact, apart from Jack and Jess, it was David and Grace who everyone believed would be married first; it was on their one year anniversary that they were engaged. However, their engagement became prolonged and marriage never followed. Then, just around the approach of the fall season last year, Grace took off with an actor friend she had met, leaving David behind with nothing more than a simple engagement ring, a broken heart and compulsive drive to work.

Jess glared at Jack. The subject of Grace and her abandonment was a sore topic that many people avoided discussing, especially around David and Jess. Understandably, David was crushed when she fled, and he was still far from recovering from her callous departure. Jess, on the other hand, felt betrayed when her closest friend took off to spend her life with some flighty actor she had just met.

Jack noticed the glare and smiled weakly. "Well, I gotta be going. Assignment, you know?" he said before winking at her. "I'll see you later, my dear."

"Of course, Jack," she replied, turning away from him so that she was facing her typewriter again. Figuring she would take a leaf out of David's book, Jess immersed herself in her typing as Jack quietly slipped away.

Nearly ten minutes had passed when Jess heard footsteps approaching the entrance to the office. Assuming it was Cassandra, back with a copy of the _Sun_, Jess kept her head in her work, looking up only when she heard a crash. "Dave, good morning," she said with a grin, amused at his clumsiness.

David rubbed the shoulder that he had bumped into the door frame as he looked around puzzled. "The same to you, Jess. Umm – where is everyone else?" he questioned, his pale cheeks beginning to glow red.

"Well, Jack just ran out and Cassandra left to get a newspaper for Jack. I guess it's just you and me right now," she said.

David's face blushed more furiously and the notes he had clutched in his right hand slipped out of his fingers. Jess pretended not to notice his embarrassment as he lowered himself to retrieve the pages; David just had a knack for dropping things whenever Jess saw him. As soon as David straightened up, Jess began to ask him about the night before. "I saw you with all those ladies at Jason's and Filly's party last night, did you enjoy yourself?"

"I guess you could say so, Jess," he mumbled, averting his blue eyes from her as he made his way over to his desk, clearly uncomfortable.

"I'm glad, Dave," she said warmly, unaware of his discomfort. "I was just wondering how good of a time you had, since you were at work so early today."

"Well, you know how it is. The news waits for no man," David answered, getting his notes in order. "After the party last night, I decided to take a quick shower and then head over to the office to see if there was anything that could get done early. Good thing I did, too – there was a nasty murder that took place just off Eleventh last night. When I came in, Mr. Jenkins was waiting to dispatch someone over to the crime scene, and since I got here just then, he let me do it instead of one of the more experienced reporters," David continued, his chest swollen with pride. As the junior reporters for the morning and afternoon editions of the _Chronicle_, both David and Jack were usually assigned simpler topics for articles. To be trusted with something as big as murder was an impressive thing.

After getting the notes together, David set them down on his desk. He then grabbed a separate set of papers and handed them to Jess. "Do me a favor and type this other article up for me? I'd like to have that finished before I start this new one," he asked, apologetically. Even though he was her boss, he never got used to telling her what to do. Luckily she had no problem doing whatever David asked her to do.

"Of course, Dave," Jess answered, taking them from his hand. When their hands brushed accidentally, the scarlet that had receded from his cheeks flared up again. Jess smiled and pretended not to notice this as well, instead sitting the notes up against the typewriter so that it was easier to read them.

David pulled back his hand and rested it on his curly brown hair. "Well, I gotta go talk to Mr. Jenkins. That murder last night was quite nasty and I wanted to run the details by him before I write up the article," he explained as he started to leave the office.

Jess nodded and began to type up David's earlier article. David paused to watch her work for a moment before hurrying out of the office and towards the steps. Mr. Jenkins office was on the twenty-fifth floor, twenty stories higher, and many flights of stairs away from the junior reporter's office.

As soon as she was sure he was gone, Jess stood up and walked over to Dave's desk. As Cassandra had yet to return, Jack was on assignment and David was heading to the boss' floor, she figured it was her chance to sneak a peek at David's notes. He had sparked her curiosity when he said how nasty the murder had been and she wondered what exactly had happened. Though she knew that homicide occurred more frequently in Manhattan than in other parts of the state of New York, it had been news recently that there had not been a publicized murder in weeks. The occurrence from the night before would be the first in quite some time.

Leaning against David's desk, she reached down and picked up the rough draft of the article David had penned at the crime scene. Quickly, she began to read:

_For the first time in nearly a month, the "M" in Manhattan stands for murder. _

Jess grinned to herself as she marveled at David's work. It was his style of writing, and Jack's ability to investigate even the oddest of situations due to his familiarity of the New York streets, that had landed the pair jobs at junior reporters. It was also their individual knacks that enabled the two to be such a great team. Shaking her head at David's opening sentence, which served its purpose of drawing her into his writing, she continued to read.

_On the night of July 30, a man was found slain in a back alley just off Eleventh Avenue. The man, called Tyler Harrison, had been stabbed multiple times resulting in his death. His identity was discovered from identification the man carried and was confirmed when a hysterical young women ran onto the crime scene. The woman, who referred to herself as simply "Cookie", had been a friend of Mr. Harrison, who she called "Danger". _

Jess paused for a moment. "Danger?" she asked aloud, even more curious than she was moments before. Oddly enough, when Jess was a young girl living in Queens, she knew of a newsie called Danger.

_This reporter waited for the police officers on the scene to escort Cookie out of the back alley before approaching her and buying her a cup of coffee. As she calmed down, she was able to talk a bit about why Mr. Harrison could have been killed. The victim had been, for lack of better term, a bookie, who had a numerous enemies. In fact, the night of his murder, Cookie said, he had arranged to meet some big shot. No doubt it was such an individual who had a part in Mr. Harrison's demise._

The short paragraph that Jess had read was the only coherent account of what had happened during David's assignment early that morning. On the various other pages, David had written his notes in a sort of shorthand, with scribbles and underlines to accentuate certain parts. Jess tossed the last paper down on the desk, resigned to learn more about the murder when she typed up his final article, when a bolded note on the last page caught her eye.

**_note: According to the police, the victim had been stabbed twice - once in the side and once in the back. However, a detail too graphic to include in the article, is that he had also been sliced across the chest. The murderer had carved three large letters into the man's flesh: R.I.P., an acronym for the phrase "Rest in Peace"._**

R.I.P… _Riposi_ _in Pace…_ Rip.

All at once, weeks of odd occurrences seemed to fall into place and suddenly make sense to her. Quite a few times Jess had chided herself when she felt that she was being followed. And what about that large man she caught leering at her from across the _Chronicle_ building just last week? He had looked somewhat familiar to her. Now this – a man she was sure she knew had been murdered and branded with the name of a man she had long tried to forget. _Rip_.

As his name rang inside her thoughts, Jess focused on one single idea before giving way to panic and passing out: "He's back."


	4. An accident in the workplace

Title: _Can't Keep Running_

Summary: _It's been five years since the strike, seven since she learned Jack's true history and nine since she said goodbye to Rip -- what's in store next for Stress & Jack? Marriage? A Family? Or the return of the one she fears above all others?_

Disclaimer: _As I've said countless times before, and I'm sure I'll say it countless times again, I, sadly, do not own any of the newsies. They are © 1992- to Disney, as hard as I try to get them for myself. I do, however, own Jessa/Stress, Luke/Rip, Caitlin/Spindle and Tyler/Danger. Any other character is property of the author I've borrowed them from._

Soul Mates Series: _This is the fourth installment in _Stress & Jack: Soul Mates Series_. It is preceded by Cuts Like a Knife (I), Secrets Behind the Lies (II) and One Year Anniversary (III), in case you would like to read the earlier chapters in their lives._

--

_Chapter Three_

--

Cassandra hugged the newspaper close to her chest as she made her way back to the _Chronicle_ building. Maybe now Mr. Kelly would pay a little more notice to her instead of that other girl. Her lip curled in disdain as her thoughts turned to her imagined rival. The older girl always acted so friendly with both of the junior reporters. _It's almost as if she knows them personally_, she thought but shook her head. Everyone knew that Mr. Jenkins never hired people who were acquainted with each other prior to employment. He felt it would make the workplace more fun that it should be. Cassandra let out an unladylike snort as the mostly likely scenario popped in her head. _Jessa just probably slept with them both in order to get ahead, that whore_. Of course. That had to be it.

Her feet carried her quickly back to the building. If she was lucky she might arrive before Mr. Kelly left on his assignment. She held the newspaper out and checked to make sure that it hadn't left any smudges down the front of her cream-colored blouse. Her shirt was clean. Then, balancing the paper in her right hand, she used her left to smooth out any wrinkles in her forest-green skirt. It was a bit impulsive to wear such a garment to the office, her mother had warned, but everything about Jack Kelly exuded "impulse". She had bought the skirt and worn it in hopes of receiving an appreciative glare from her boss.

Once she deemed herself appropriate she entered the building. Cassandra walked up the five flights to the junior reporters' office before briefly pausing. She plastered what she hoped was an alluring smile onto her youthful face and entered.

Three steps in the grin slid off of her face. The room was empty. She sighed. _I should have known. Oh well, maybe later._

She continued into the cramped office stopping only to place the newspaper delicately onto Jack's cluttered desk. It was as she watched the newspaper teeter precariously on top of a stack of paper cuttings that she noticed something was sticking out from behind David Jacobs' desk. She rubbed her eyes. It was a set of feet, brown heeled shoes attached.

Cassandra navigated her way across the room until she found herself looking upon the fallen form of Jessa. She squatted down in order to get a closer look at the older girl. Her green eyes were closed and her body was sprawled out across the wooden floor. It appeared at first that she was merely sleeping. The small pool of blood that had welled up, barely visible under the mass of curls that had escaped Jess' clip, was the only indication that her first assessment was wrong. Dead wrong.

"Morning again, Miss Cassandra. What are you looking at over there?"

Cassandra stood up hurriedly and looked over at David. Her face had gone pale; her hazel eyes darted back and forth. "I didn't do it, Mr. Jacobs, honest," she answered quickly holding her hands up in defense. It was no secret that she didn't fully like the older girl and it had just occurred to her how guilty she must look standing there over her injured body.

David nodded, an amused expression crossing his face. Mr. Jenkins had just approved his article as well as commending him on taking the time to interview the victim's distraught girlfriend. It was sure to be a scoop that neither the _Sun_ nor the _World_ would have, he had said stoutly. David was flying high after a meeting like that. Nothing could ruin this euphoric of a mood. To humor the girl, who was obviously worried about something, he asked, "And what was it that you didn't do?"

He walked forward narrowly avoiding colliding with Jack's desk. Once he passed that corner his eyes landed on the feet, just as Cassandra's had. He paused. "Cassandra?" he asked, his voice unusually high, "Is that Jess?"

She nearly burst into tears. "I just walked into the office and I found her like this." The words tumbled out and she stepped away from the girl in order to let David have access.

He didn't move. "Is she alright? She's not…" His voice was much lower now as if he was fighting to get the words out.

"I don't think so," she whispered back. "I didn't get close enough to see."

David took a step forward allowing Cassandra to back out behind him. His stomach churned at the sight of Jess lying on the floor. Her face, like Cassandra's, was a ghostly pale. It was when he was standing directly over her he saw the crimson stain spreading out from under her head. He nearly joined her on the floor. "Blood," he mumbled. He did not like blood.

He knelt down alongside her and picked up her wrist. He was grateful at the warm flesh and smiled when he felt a faint pulse. "She's alright," he announced.

Cassandra felt a small twinge and realized she was relieved. No matter how much she disliked the girl, she didn't want Jessa dead. _Or, at least, I don't want to be the one who finds her_.

David didn't wait for Cassandra to say anything. He lifted one of Jess' lids and observed that her eyes had rolled into the back of her head. She was unconscious – he would not be able to wake her up himself; he would need medical assistance. He turned to Cassandra. "I think she's going to be okay but she did hit her head pretty hard. I know there is a small doctor's office at the end of this block. I'll carry her over there but I'm going to need you to stay here in case Jack returns. Just do me a favor and explain what happened – he's going to have to write my diner article for me if I don't get back before the next edition. I'll bring my notes for the murder with me and do that article this afternoon so he doesn't have to worry about that one." David stopped his instructions and scooped Jess up into his arms. She was not as light as she appeared to be but he was confident that he would be able to make it down the five flights and the one block it took to get to Doctor Morgan's office. He had too, she needed him. Once he had a secure hold on her, he turned back to Cassandra. "He'll find the diner notes in my desk, top drawer," he continued, gesturing towards his own immaculate desk, "they're marked so he shouldn't have a hard time finding them. I'll be back as soon as I make sure she's fine."

Cassandra nodded. "Of course, Mr. Jacobs. I'll make sure that Mr. Kelly finds out as soon as I see him."

"Thanks," he answered before making his way out of the office, his troubled eyes on Jess. Both he and Cassandra tried not to look at the small puddle of blood that had been left on the floor.

---

_Knock. Knock._

David pounded repeatedly on the door. "Jack, are you in there?" He paused and placed his ear up against the wood. No one answered.

In his frustration he hit the door one final time, harder than he had expected to. He had just left Jess in the care of Doctor Morgan and was now looking for Jack. Something about the way Cassandra agreed to his request made him think that, if he left it up to her, Jack would never get the message. He knew that Jack sometimes paused at home when he was on assignment. Instead of wandering around the city in search of the reporter David thought he would check the apartment first.

Jack may not have been home to hear David's banging but Ava Mackenzie was. She poked her head out of her apartment down the hall and chided David. "Just getting in, Dave?" She tightened her long black ponytail and stepped out of her room, a friendly smile across her pretty face. She was kidding with him and wanted him to know that. "I know it was a late night for all of us but damn."

David was not in the mood for her jokes. He hurriedly ran toward her. "Ava, are you busy in there?" he asked quickly. His hands were shaking slightly and there was a blood stain on his right shoulder.

If she was surprised at his manic actions she had the good grace not to show it. "Not really, Dave. I'm just working on some wash that I took in this week, nothing special. Is something wrong?"

He wiped a bead of sweat from off of his brow. "Yeah, Ava. It's Jess…"

"Jess? What happened to her?" Ava didn't really need to hear anymore, though. She was already removing her apron.

"I … I really don't know, Ava. Cassandra found her in the office on the floor. She had fainted dead away and ended up hitting her head. There was blood all over," he added, gesturing to the mess on his shirt.

"Where is she now?"

David watched as she ducked back in her apartment and quickly returned with her shoes and her purse in her hands. As she began pulling on her shoes, he answered her question. "I brought her over to Doctor Morgan's, down the block from the _Chronicle_ building. He took her in and placed her on a bed. He was able to bandage her head up and stop the blood, too. He says he's sure that everything will be alrig—"

When she finished pulling on her second shoe Ava waved her hand at him, effectively cutting him off. "Then what was the reason that you were beating on their door? Jack must already be there because I know you wouldn't leave a friend of yours alone in a strange doctor's office like that, right Dave?"

David's shoulders slumped. "I left Jess there and came to get Jack here. I didn't trust Cassandra to tell Jack so I figured I'd find him myself."

"Oh, jeez, Dave. Why would you do something like that?" Ava pulled the door closed behind her. "Listen, I'll head on down to the doctor's office. You go find Jack and meet me there."

He nodded and felt much more relieved. "Sounds great, Ava. I'll meet you down there."

Ava began to walk quickly down the corridor. David watched her go before heading after her. Ava looked over her shoulder and grinned, despite the severity of the moment. "Some brain you got there, Dave. You should have got me to begin with," she teased. Maybe if she made light of the situation David wouldn't look like the world was about to end. Of course, though, if Jack got wind of what had occurred, and he had no answers, that just might be the case.


	5. Unexpected news

Title: _Can't Keep Running_

Summary: _It's been five years since the strike, seven since she learned Jack's true history and nine since she said goodbye to Rip -- what's in store next for Stress & Jack? Marriage? A Family? Or the return of the one she fears above all others?_

Disclaimer: _As I've said countless times before, and I'm sure I'll say it countless times again, I, sadly, do not own any of the newsies. They are © 1992- to Disney, as hard as I try to get them for myself. I do, however, own Jessa/Stress, Luke/Rip, Caitlin/Spindle and Tyler/Danger. Any other character is property of the author I've borrowed them from._

Soul Mates Series: _This is the fourth installment in _Stress & Jack: Soul Mates Series_. It is preceded by Cuts Like a Knife (I), Secrets Behind the Lies (II) and One Year Anniversary (III), in case you would like to read the earlier chapters in their lives._

--

_Chapter Four_

--

When Ava arrived at Doctor Morgan's and indicated that the unconscious woman that had been brought in was her friend, the receptionist told her to take a seat. She remained in that chair, nervous and impatient, for close to a half an hour before she heard talking come from the small room just outside the waiting area. _Jess must be awake_.

The rumblings of a hushed conversation lasted for another three-quarters of an hour. Ava only knew how much time has passed by annoying the receptionist until the middle-aged woman threatened to make her wait outside.

After the threat, Ava waited quietly from that point on. She didn't have too much longer to wait. After a moment of quiet, Jess emerged from the room, the elderly doctor following close behind.

She thanked the doctor dazedly and gave the receptionist the address to where they should send his bill after they entered the waiting room. Ava stood from the chair and rushed forward to Jess's side. She was relieved to see that Jess was all in one piece. Neither the doctor, nor his receptionist, had given her any information on Jess's condition. Besides the swath of gauze that covered one side of her head, she appeared to be fine.

Jess reached for Ava's hand but kept her eyes on Doctor Morgan. "I really want to thank you again, Doctor. I don't know what to say."

"It was my pleasure, Mrs. Jacobs. I will see you for a check-up in another week," he answered and smiled benignly at the young woman. She was taking the news better than expected.

She nodded and waved to the receptionist. "Bye," she added before turning to Ava. "Thanks for coming," she whispered and followed Ava's lead outside of the doctor's office.

"Of course, I came for you, Jess," she answered, squeezing her hand tightly. "And, now that you're out of there, you want to tell me why you were brought in there in the first place?"

Jess paled. She knew exactly why she was there; she hadn't forgotten from the moment she awoke. The two women walked in silence, Ava awaiting an answer that Jess didn't really want to give. After they had walked a few blocks away from the office, _walking in the opposition direction of the _Chronicle _building_, Jess noted, she finally spoke. "I… I fell."

Ava sighed. _Come on Jess, you can do better than that._ "Yes, I know that. Dave told me that he and Cassandra found you on the ground. Now," Ava stopped and met her friend's green eyes, "do you want to tell me _why_ you fell?"

Another few blocks passed by before Jess found in her to speak again. "It's him, Ava…"

Ava was confused. "Him, who? Jack?"

"No." Jess kept her face straight ahead trying not to meet Ava's gaze. "Rip. He's back."

It was Ava's turn to fall silent. If she was expecting any answer, it sure wasn't that. _Rip_. Ava knew the stories; this could not be good. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

"There was a murder last night – a man called Harrison. I… I knew him… back when I was in Queens. He was a friend of Rip's," Jess whispered. She thought she had gotten past all this. She was grown, wasn't she? "I think Rip did it, Ava. I think he's back."

Ava kept her mouth closed for a second, debating on whether or not she wanted to comment on Jess' fears. She had known Jess for five years and if there was one thing about her she knew: she was always fearful that her prior lover would return to New York. She figured that this was an opportune moment to mention something that had been her mind for awhile. It might also help get her mind off of Rip. "I think you might have a bigger problem than that right now, Jess. I mean, you don't know for sure that Rip's back in town, right? This could be some sort of coincidence and all. For all you know, this Harrison fella is someone else entirely." When her friend remained silent, Ava continued. "I think that you've got to handle David first."

Jess paused. "Come again?" This was quite a turn from the current conversation.

Ava sighed again. She and Rae were just discussing this last week. His actions had begun not too soon after Grace had left him. And, while it may not be obvious to her that David still had feelings for her, anyone else with eyes could see how he felt. The women believed that Jess would have to deal with that sooner or later. Ava personally thought it would be better if she did it sooner. "David. As in Jacobs."

"I know Dave's last name, Ava." She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What kind of fool did Ava take her for? "What I'm trying to figure out is why I've got to 'handle' him."

"You know he was the one who brought you to the doctor's, right?"

She nodded. "It explains why Doctor Morgan kept calling me 'Mrs. Jacobs' and telling me that my husband was a nervous fella. I didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise – and, besides, I didn't want to explain that I was unmarried, anyway." She paused at the corner and smiled at one of the newsboys. Had she really grown up so much since then?

Ava lifted her own hand in acknowledgment before hurrying Jess along to the apartments. She didn't think it would be a smart idea to let Jess return to the _Chronicle_ building right away. She figured bed rest is just what she needed following the days' events. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to continue questioning her along the way.

Once the pair had resumed walking Ava continued their conversation. "Jess, I saw David after he brought you to the doctor's. He was practically beating down your front door in frustration. He told me that he kept going back and forth between your apartment and the office trying to find Jack. I went down to Doctor Morgan's to wait with you while he continued to hunt down Jack but it was real easy to see how rattled he was."

She shrugged, not really listening to Ava any more. She had other things on her mind. She was finding it difficult to focus on just one. "So? I'd be rattled too if I found him passed out on the office floor, blood gushing out of his head." She reached behind her head and let her fingers find the rough fabric of the bandage the doctor put there to protect her wound. _It must have been some sight_, she thought to herself imagining herself sprawled out on the floor. It was at least comforting to know that it was Ava, and not Jack, waiting for her at Doctor Morgan's because no one had been able to find Jack to tell him.

Her mind lingered on Jack for a moment before it was wiped clean. She shivered and her stomach began to turn. The familiar sensation that she was being watched was upon her again. Without trying to agitate the faint throbbing of her head that had accompanied her fall, she turned to look behind her. The Manhattan streets were as crowded as ever; it was impossible to make out any face that was staring in her general direction. She shivered again.

Ava placed her arm around Jess, assuming that she was either upset at the topic of conversation or was just cold. "Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it all up. I mean, you just got hurt – and that murder you mentioned… Just forget it. We'll talk about it later."

Jess started to shake her head, her shoulder-length curls swaying as she did, but stopped almost directly after. It made the throbbing almost unbearable. _This is not what I need right now… _"Ya know what, Ava? That ain't important anyway. I don't think that Dave is gonna want to have anything to do with me now."

"Why? Because of Rip? I don't rea—"

Jess paused, a saddened look coming to her green eyes, as she broke loose of Ava's slight embrace. She approached the entrance to the apartment building. "No, Ava," she interrupted and she sounded angry and bitter, "because I'm going to have a baby."


	6. Jumping to conclusions can be painful

Title: _Can't Keep Running_

Summary: _It's been five years since the strike, seven since she learned Jack's true history and nine since she said goodbye to Rip -- what's in store next for Stress & Jack? Marriage? A Family? Or the return of the one she fears above all others?_

Disclaimer: _As I've said countless times before, and I'm sure I'll say it countless times again, I, sadly, do not own any of the newsies. They are © 1992- to Disney, as hard as I try to get them for myself. I do, however, own Jessa/Stress, Luke/Rip, Caitlin/Spindle and Tyler/Danger. Any other character is property of the author I've borrowed them from._

Soul Mates Series: _This is the fourth installment in _Stress & Jack: Soul Mates Series_. It is preceded by Cuts Like a Knife (I), Secrets Behind the Lies (II) and One Year Anniversary (III), in case you would like to read the earlier chapters in their lives._

--

_Chapter Five_

--

_Knock, knock._

Jack stopped gazing at the little black box he held in his right hand long enough to glance at the front door of his apartment. "Who is it?"

"It's me, Jack. Can you let me in?"

Even through the door Jack recognized the voice as David's – and he sounded a little frantic. "Come on in, Dave," Jack called out as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

David rushed into the apartment, panting and out of breath. "Jack, thank God I finally found you… I've been looking all over for you for hours. I stopped in at the _Chronicle_ office and Cassandra said you hadn't returned from your earlier assignment. Where the hell have you been? I know you sometimes stop at home when you're on assignment but this is my third trip here and you haven't answered before."

"You're right, Dave. I actually just stopped at home before heading back to the office. I finished my article earlier today but I had to," Jack began as he held up the box and showed it to Dave, "stop at the jewelry store this afternoon."

David sat down at the table opposite of Jack trying to catch his breath. As he did so, he gestured to the simple gold band resting inside the box. "What's that for, Jack?"

Jack grinned as he placed the box onto the table. "I'm finally gonna do it, Dave. I'm finally gonna ask Jess to be my wife."

"You're – you're – you're gonna propose to Jess?" David asked as he took in another deep breath.

Jack nodded appreciatively at his shocked expression. "Yup, I've been planning to do this for quite some time now and I've finally saved up enough to buy this ring. Now I just have to find the right time to pop the question."

"But, uh - Jack? What are you gonna do if she says 'no'?" David asked, sounding just a touch more than hopeful, as he leaned forward over the table. His thoughts were all a muddle after hearing Jack's announcement. All thoughts of the day's earlier occurrences were gone.

Jack, on the other hand, knew nothing of the previous happenings. Instead, he just thought that David was joking. After all, wasn't it Jess who was discussing the prospect of marriage just that morning? "Oh, I don't know, Dave. It just so happens, though, that if that _does_ happen, I got myself a backup plan," he grinned as he reached over the table and playfully punched David on the shoulder.

David sat back as he rubbed his shoulder. "And what's your big plan, Jack?"

"Well, Dave," Jack answered, a mischievous glint in his chocolate-colored eyes, "I figure I'll head out West to Santa Fe like I've always wanted to do, ya know. And, of course, I just can't go alone, so I think I'm gonna bring along Cass with me. Cute kid – And I think she'd head out with me if I asked."

David grinned as he listened to Jack's made up plan. "But what'll become of your dear sweetheart?"

Jack then winked back at his longtime pal. "You can have Jess then. Lord only knows that you've needed a lady friend since Grace took off."

David's grin slid off of his face at Jack's words. "Yeah, since Grace left."

Jack, noticing how quickly the mood had gone from happy to somber, asked, "Are you alright, David?"

David nodded. "Yeah and don't worry - I'll take good care of Jess for you when you take off like Grace did. We left-behind gotta stick together," he answered, part in wishful thinking, part in truth and part in continuing with Jack's jest.

"Good man, Dave," Jack answered, rising from the table and clapping David on his back. "Gotta have someone take care of Jess for me if my plan falls through," he added, winking once more as he gestured to the ring box still on the table.

"_Take care of Jess_ – Oh my God, Jack. I forgot all about Jess and the reason why I came here. Something happened to her. She passed out down at the paper office today and Cassandra found her. I brought her over to Doctor Morgan and sent Ava to wait with her until I found you and brought you to her. And I finally found you - here you are."

Jack scooped up the box, slipped it into his pocket, and grabbed his hat. "Well, come on Dave. Let's go down to Doctor Morgan's and find out what's wrong with Jess."

But, at that moment, the door to the apartment swung open and Jess walked in, tears glittering in her golden eyes. "Don't bother, Cowboy. I'm right here – but not for long. Goodbye."

---

Ava gaped at Jess as her words sunk in. "That's what Doctor Morgan said, isn't it? And that's why you passed out this afternoon? Oh, Jess, I'm so happy for you," she squealed as she ran forward and wrapped Jess up into a hug. "How far along are you?"

Jess waited until Ava had let her go before answering. "From what Doctor Morgan can figure – 2 or 3 months. And he never would have figured it if I hadn't have passed out in the office. But, do me a favor, Ava? Please keep it down. And, please, don't tell anyone. Not Michael, not Rae, not Filly -- not even Jack."

Ava narrowed her gaze as she peered at Jess. "You are going to tell Jack, aren't you?"

Scoffing slightly, Jess turned her back on Ava and stared at the front of the building. "Why should I, Ava? So that Jack can have another reason to run over to that tramp, Cassandra? I don't think so."

"But he's gonna find out sooner or later, Jess. I mean, the baby's gotta be born, right?" Ava asked as she walked around to face Jess.

"Yeah, but I got time. Besides, I got enough on my mind with Rip in town and Cassandra trying to steal Jack from me. Why did things have to get so much more complicated now?"

Ava shook her head and smiled at Jess. "I don't know. But it'll only get harder if you keep this from Jack – don't you two have some rule against secrets?"

Jess stood still for a moment before lowering her head. "Why do you always have to be right?"

Ava shrugged as she grinned in triumph. "Just lucky, I guess," she said as she entered the apartment building and beckoned to Jess to follow. "Now listen, Jess. Michael isn't going to be home from work for a few more hours and my sewing doesn't need to be finished until tomorrow, so I think I'm gonna go with you to your apartment to wait for Jack to get home from the office. And, I'm telling you now, if you don't tell Jack, I will."

Jess heaved her shoulders in defeat as she followed Ava into the apartments. After going up the first two flights of stairs, Jess turned to Ava. "You know what, Ava? If he throws me out of the apartment after I tell him this, I'm coming to live with you and Michael."

As she led the way up to their third floor apartments, Ava turned and grinned. How could Jack not be overjoyed at the news? Hadn't he been recently pestering Jess as to when they were going to start a family? True, he didn't think too highly of settling down and getting married, but anyone who had seen him with the Rae's daughter could see he was anxious to have his own. But instead of bringing up that point when the idea of a baby was obviously an upsetting one to Jess, Ava tried to make light of the situation. After all, even after being married to her husband for 2 years, she had yet to experience the joys of motherhood herself. "It's a deal, Jess. But, I warn you that you're gonna have to deal with Michael's snoring."

Jess forced a laugh as she made her way up the last flight of stairs leading to her home. "You know what, Ava? Good old Skitts," Jess began, using Michael's old nickname, "snores so loud that I already hear him down the hall in my apartment."

Ava was just about to reply how her her husband wasn't really that loud when Jess paused in front of the door to her apartment and brought her finger to her lip. "Shhh," she whispered as both the women paused in front of the door, "I think I just heard Jack talking in there."

"But it's still early. What's he doing home so soon? Shouldn't he be at the office?"

Jess shrugged her shoulders as she pressed her ear against the door to eavesdrop on the conversation. Though she knew that eavesdropping had only given her problems in the past due to her tendency to jump to conclusions, it was a very tough habit for her to break.

"And what's your big plan, Jack?"

"That was Dave," stated Ava before Jess hushed her again. "Sorry."

Jess ignored her as she continued to keep her ear to the door, curious to hear what "plan" the two men were discussing; it sounded suspiciously to her like a secret and as she and Ava had talked about before, she and Jack didn't have any secrets anymore -- at least, not that she knew of.

"Well, Dave," came Jack's voice, stronger and louder than David's, "I figure I'll head out West to Santa Fe like I've always wanted to do, ya know. And, of course, I just can't go alone, so I think I'm gonna bring along Cass with me. Cute kid -- And I think she'd head out with me if I asked."

"Jess?"

Jess looked over at Ava sharply and whispered, "Yeah, I heard what he said, but wait. I think I hear the 'Walking Mouth' talking now."

"But what'll become of your dear sweetheart?"

"Oh, this'll be interesting," muttered Ava under her breath before laying her hand on Jess' shoulder. "Jess, I think we should go to my apartment and wait for Jack and Dave to finish their talk before we come back."

Jess shook Ava's hand off. "No, Ava. I want to hear this."

Ava cringed as she heard Jack let out a burst of laughter and consequently felt Jess begin to tremble as he continued to tell David his "plan". "You can have Jess then. Lord only knows that you've needed a lady friend since Grace took off."

"Jess?"

Jess continued to tremble as she removed her ear from the door; she no longer had the heart nor the appetite to listen to anymore of that conversation.


	7. Maybe

Title: _Can't Keep Running_

Summary: _It's been five years since the strike, seven since she learned Jack's true history and nine since she said goodbye to Rip -- what's in store next for Stress & Jack? Marriage? A Family? Or the return of the one she fears above all others?_

Disclaimer: _As I've said countless times before, and I'm sure I'll say it countless times again, I, sadly, do not own any of the newsies. They are © 1992- to Disney, as hard as I try to get them for myself. I do, however, own Jessa/Stress, Luke/Rip, Caitlin/Spindle and Tyler/Danger. Any other character is property of the author I've borrowed them from._

Soul Mates Series: _This is the fourth installment in _Stress & Jack: Soul Mates Series_. It is preceded by Cuts Like a Knife (I), Secrets Behind the Lies (II) and One Year Anniversary (III), in case you would like to read the earlier chapters in their lives._

--

_Chapter Six_

--

For the countless time in the three nights that Jess had spent on the Mackenzie couch she found herself tossing and turning restlessly, entirely unable to sleep. Finally, when she at last made herself comfortable, lying flat on her back and staring up at the ceiling, all the while trying her damndest to tune out Michael's snoring, Jess let her thoughts travel back to Jack.

It had been over two days since she had stormed out of her apartment, announcing she was leaving, yet she still felt as hurt and betrayed as ever. Though it was true that the initial look of shock on his face was enough to plant seeds of doubt in her mind about what she had heard, she also reminded herself how he hadn't denied anything at first. He had waited until she had returned Saturday morning for her belongings to try and convince her to stay.

_After a sleepless night in Ava and Michael's apartment Jess just wanted to grab a few of her dresses in order to have something fresh to wear; after all, she had had to wear a nightgown of Ava's the night before due to her reluctance to face Jack right away. But, now, the morning after, Jess realized that it would have to be something she dealt with – and the sooner she did that the better. So, with a queasy feeling in her stomach that had nothing to do with morning sickness, Jess returned to the apartment she had shared with Jack and slipped inside, praying that Jack would still be asleep._

_"Who is it? What do you want? Go away," called a groggy voice once Jess had shut the door behind her._

_"Shit," she murmured under her breath as she headed towards the room where she had heard the voice coming from – the kitchen. Meaning to go in there and tell Jack exactly what she thought of him, especially since he had just told her to go away when it still was half her apartment until the next month, Jess entered the room with her head held high._

_But once she entered the small nook in the back of the apartment, she let out an involuntary gasp when she saw Jack sitting at the table, dark circles under his eyes, and a few empty bottles sitting in front of his place. "Jack, what the hell is wrong with you? Don't you realize how early it is?" _

_He took a moment to recognize her and grinned when he realized who it was. "Well, my dear, if you never went to bed, then it's still late and not early at all."_

_Jess let out a sigh of disgust. "It's been one day since I've been gone and you've turned into a goddamn drunk already, Cowboy?"_

_Jack ignored her use of his old nickname as his grin quickly turned into a scowl. "Maybe if you would explain to me why exactly you ran out on me yesterday I wouldn't have stayed up all night drinking."_

_"Don't start with me – you know exactly why I left. I just don't understand why it took me so long to find out what a backstabbing, cheating lowlife you were."_

_Jack stood up slowly, using the table to support himself and stay his swaying. "Maybe because I ain't one. Who the hell told you that I was, huh?"_

_"You, that's who. But it don't matter – I know the real you now and I'm just sorry it took me four years. Anyway, I just stopped into get some of my stuff. Ava and Michael are letting me stay over until I can find my own place to stay." And, with that, Jess turned around and began to head out of the room._

_But, before she could take two steps, Jack rushed in front of her and grabbed her arm. "Jess, wait—"_

_"What have I told you about grabbing me, Cowboy? Nobody grabs me without my permission, so back off," Jess hissed as she wrenched her arm out of his grasp. _

_Jack looked surprised amidst the dazed expression that the liquor had given him. "I'm sorry, Jess, it's just that I need to talk to you. I don't know what exactly is going on, but I want you to tell me. I don't want you to leave me."_

_"Yeah, well, you should have thought about that before you had your talk with Dave yesterday," Jess snapped, trying hard not to feel weak at Jack's now hurt expression. If there was thing that Jess hated, it was weakness. "Anyway, I'll see ya at the newspaper office on Monday, Cowboy. Just do me a favor -- don't fuck that tramp on your desk when I'm standing there. I mean, I'm sure you're ecstatic that you can finally show the world how you feel about Cassandra, but we wouldn't want another li'l Sullivan running around. One will be enough."_

_And, as Jess spat out her parting words and turned to leave, totally forgetting the reason she had entered the apartment in the first place, she left Jack behind fighting for sobriety in order to ponder the meaning behind her last statement._

Jess groaned as she remembered her last remark to Jack. Of course she would have to open her mouth and hint towards the one thing she wanted to keep from him. Though Ava was right when she said that Jack would find out eventually, Jess just didn't have the stomach to tell him that on Saturday. Nor Sunday.

_"Um, Jess? Jack's knocking at the door again. Do you want me to answer it?" _

_Jess looked up from the sewing that she was helping Ava with and shot Michael a withering glare. "I told Jack last night when he woke us all up with his banging that I never wanted to speak to him again. What does he want now? Does he want Rae to come out and yell at him again?" Last night, when Jack had woken up Rae's daughter, Genna, with his banging, Rae came storming out. Waving her wooden spoon angrily, it had been quite a sight to watch the still inebriated Jack back down and return to his apartment. _

_Michael shrugged his shoulders apologetically, confusion written in his brown eyes. "He won't tell me, Jess. Says he needs to speak to you and he won't stop pounding on the door until you do. 'Rae or no Rae'_ _he said."_

_Sighing heavily Jess placed the sock she was darning down onto the kitchen table and stood up. "Alright, Michael. I'll answer the door," she replied, sounding as if it was the last thing she wanted to do. And, of course, it was._

_Michael nodded once before picking up the morning edition of the paper and returning to his and Ava's bedroom. Jess waited until he had shut the door behind him and his wife before approaching the front door. "Francis Sullivan, what the hell do you think you are doing out there this early in the morning?"_

_At once the banging ceased. "Jess, you know damn well that the only name I answer to since I had it changed is 'Jack Kelly'," came his cold reply._

_From her side of the door Jess allowed herself a tiny smile; if there was one thing that Jack hated more than anything it was being reminded of his early childhood and of his murderous father, the man whose name he shared. Once Francis Sullivan, Sr. was imprisoned for the murder of his wife, Margaret, and his son was left on the streets of New York to fend for himself, Francis Sullivan, Jr. adopted the name "Jack Kelly" in order to put his own past behind him. Normally, calling Jack by his birth name was a card that Jess tried not to play but this time it was different. To her, no amount of hurt she inflicted on him with her words could match the amount he caused on her when she heard him making his plans to leave Manhattan with Cassandra. Remembering the hurt she was now enduring from the overheard conversation of two days prior, Jess retorted, "And you know damn well that I told you that I never wanted to see you again."_

_There was silence for a moment before she heard Jack's voice once more, no longer cold; instead, his voice now carried a pleading tone. "Jess, can you please just answer the door? Listen, I don't know what the hell happened but I've been thinking this over non-stop since Friday night. Somewhere along the line you got the wrong message and we need to sort this out."_

_"We don't need to sort nothing out. I heard you, Jack. You want that two-bit hussy, alright. I know. I understand. And I'm gonna let you go after her. I'm finished. I'm sick and I'm tired and I'm finished." _

_"But Jess, I don't want Cass. Where the hell did you get that idea? She's just a kid."_

_"I've seen you down at work with her. Whenever she's around it's like I ain't even there."_

_There was a pause followed by a sigh. "I've told you time and time again – if Old Man Jenkins finds out that we're together then he'll have no choice but to fire you from the _Chronicle_. Remember how he refused to hire Grace because she was engaged to Dave? I'm just looking out for you."_

_"Yeah, well you don't have to anymore. Mr. Jenkins isn't going to find out that we're together because we ain't. I've told you Jack, we're finished. Go run to your tramp now and leave me alone," she cried, leaning with her back against the door as if, with that action, she was forever turning her back on him._

_"Jess?_ _Don't you believe me? Don't you trust me at all?"_

_"No," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she kept her back pressed against the door._

_There was another pause where Jess wondered briefly if her reply was heard. It was. "Alright, then. If that's how you feel, then I guess we _are _finished. If you need any of your belongings I will be out this evening. Good day, Miss Rhian, and _I _will see you at the newspaper office tomorrow morning, bright and early. And try not to be late. Mr. Jacobs requires a secretary who arrives on time and can get their work done, like Cassandra. And Heaven knows I'm sure he would hate to have to replace you."_

_Jess listened as Jack's cold, indifferent words washed over her. Then, taking a deep breath, she slowly stepped away from the door and began to open it. "Jack, I--," she began, but stopped suddenly. It was no use apologizing to Jack - he was already gone._

Tossing and turning once more, Jess realized that sleeping was now out of the question. After peering out of the kitchen window and seeing that the sun had begun to rise, she heaved herself off of the couch. She may not have had the chance the morning before to apologize to Jack for her rash judgments of the past three days, but maybe she could do so at the office. After all, maybe she had misunderstood Jack and Dave's Friday afternoon exchange. Maybe she wasn't as mad as she was before. Maybe Jack didn't have feelings for Cassandra. Maybe she and Jack could have another chance together, raising their child. Maybe.


	8. He said, she said

Title: _Can't Keep Running_

Summary: _It's been five years since the strike, seven since she learned Jack's true history and nine since she said goodbye to Rip -- what's in store next for Stress & Jack? Marriage? A Family? Or the return of the one she fears above all others?_

Author's Note: _Well, after a two month break, I decided to bring this story back into my repertoire. It just seemed fitting, what with the extensive work I'm doing with _A Virgin's Touch_, that I get back to my Soul Mate Series. I'm actually reworking the first three stories to incorporate the new facts about Luke/Rip – you'll see that with this story already. Well, next chapter at least. So, for anyone who reads that, it will be as entertaining to you as it is to me, to be reading about the same character with about a 10 year difference in age. _

Disclaimer: _As I've said countless times before, and I'm sure I'll say it countless times again, I, sadly, do not own any of the newsies. They are © 1992- to Disney, as hard as I try to get them for myself. I do, however, own Jessa/Stress, Luke/Rip, Caitlin/Spindle and Tyler/Danger. Any other character is property of the author I've borrowed them from._

Soul Mates Series: _This is the fourth installment in _Stress & Jack: Soul Mates Series_. It is preceded by Cuts Like a Knife (I), Secrets Behind the Lies (II) and One Year Anniversary (III), in case you would like to read the earlier chapters in their lives._

--

_Chapter Seven_

--

Maybe it was because of her fitful sleep, or maybe Michael's snoring was just too loud, but rather than retake her position on the couch and try to go back asleep, Jess quickly got dressed. The pale yellow frock she pulled on over her head was simple but daring; the length of her dress went down to the floor and cinched at her waist but the skirt held a tiny slit that, scandalously, showed her stocking covered shins when she walked. She pulled on her stockings followed by her brown heeled shoes. She pulled her light brown curls back and clipped them at the nape of her neck; she didn't want to spend the additional time pinning her hair up as the style of the time demanded. _Besides, _she thought as she gave her hair a final pat, _Jack likes my hair loose. _

She smoothed down the sides of her skirt in pure nervousness; she hadn't been this frightened of Jack since the time, almost five years ago, when she had to tell him how she felt. It was almost as if she was doing the same thing again. Hopefully Jack listened to what she said this time; he hadn't then.

Jess grabbed her purse and slipped outside of the Mackenzie's apartment. As she walked down the hallway, approaching the staircase, her green eyes strayed over to the door that led to the apartment that she had, up until three days ago, shared with Jack. Before she could stop herself, she walked over to it and rapped gently on the wooden door. She waited to see if he would answer and sighed slightly when there came no response.

Rather than wait to see if Jack left the apartment later, Jess decided to head straight to the _Chronicle _building. Not only could she try to talk things over with Jack but maybe, if she was lucky, she could arrive before Cassandra did. She wasn't going to let Jack spend any more time with the girl than was necessary, not if she wanted to try to forgive him for what he had said. He, after all, was the father of _her_ unborn child, not Cassandra's.

As she exited the apartment tenement and began to walk in the direction of the newspaper building, Jess let her right hand rest over her midsection. It had been three days since she had been to see Dr. Morgan and been told that she was expecting. Between worrying about Jack and Cassandra and wondering if Rip really had returned to New York, she hadn't truly accepted the news. _I'm going to be a mother_. It just sounded strange to her. But it was for the baby, if not for herself, that she had to talk to Jack. Ava had been right; he needed to know.

Her feet, so accustomed to the trek between her apartment building and the building that housed the _Chronicle _journalists, brought her within a few blocks without her even realizing it. She had walked most of the trip behind a tall gentleman with a top hat; it was when he turned right and opened up her view that she realized that she was almost at work. In fact, the multi-storied building was already in sight.

That was not the only thing in sight, however. Once the man who had been in front of her had gone his separate way, Jess had a direct view at the entrance to the _Chronicle _building – and to the pair that stood right before it. The handsome profile of the man she saw was known to her from the many nights she gazed at it while lying in their bed; Cassandra was equally as recognizable in her flashy pink dress.

Jess stopped almost without meaning to. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the conversing pair; neither one of them had seen her yet and, she knew, that this could be the moment of truth. If there really was something going on between the two of them, she could find out by watching them now.

At first it only looked like Jack and Cassandra were talking. Cassandra seemed rather upset, Jess could tell from the way the girl kept her head down while Jack spoke to her. But when Jack leaned down slightly and rested his hand on Cassandra's shoulder, Jess felt her heart stop. _Maybe he's just comforting Cassandra, _she thought and she waited. _Yeah, that's got to be it_. It certainly seemed that way.

That is, until Cassandra looked up and, standing on her toes, reached upwards to kiss Jack. Jess turned away at once, tears of shock and hurt immediately springing to her eyes, as she fought the urge to cry out; it was almost as if she had expected something like this to happen. She began to walk away, purposely going in the opposite direction of the _Chronicle _building. There was no way she would be able to face Jack and his secretary now.

Jess was walking so quickly, and was so preoccupied with trying to wipe at the hot tears that threatened to run down her face, that she didn't see the tall man watching her from a block away. His icy blue eyes seemed to follow her quickened pace; his lips quirked upwards as he intentionally stood in her way. He couldn't have had things gone better for him if he had planned it all himself.

---

Jack had slept just as fitfully those last few nights; he was always used to limited space in his bed. When he had lived in the Newsboys' Lodging House on Duane Street, the bunks had been tiny. Later, when he had moved into the small apartment with Jess, he had shared the larger bed with her sleeping soundly beside him. It was strange for him to have as much room in the bed as he needed. Tossing and turning for the countless time, Jack knew there was no chance he would get any sleep that night. The first night had been easier; he had stayed up drinking whiskey the entire night. The next night he spent sprawled across the bed, trying to sleep off a drunken stupor. He had then spent Sunday trying to figure out how to get Jess to tell him exactly what had happened – _cause I'll be damned if I know – _but that discussion had ended horribly. In his hurt at her words – _she had hit me pretty low calling me 'Sullivan'_ – he had given up on her. And, because he knew he had to go to work early the following morning, he couldn't drink his troubles away nor fall into a drunken sleep. The result? He hadn't slept a wink since storming away from the Mackenzie's apartment.

Sighing, Jack decided that, if he couldn't sleep, he might as well head down to the _Chronicle _building and get a head start on the small piece that he had neglected on Friday. David had felt sorry for Jack after the argument he and Jess had; he had finished up his own articles as well as a few of Jack's by heading back to the _Chronicle _building and staying late. _It's my turn to help Dave out_, he thought as he exchanged his pajama bottoms for a pair of slacks. He reached for the only clean shirt he had out and shimmied it on, adding a black tie to go with it. He half-heartedly ran a comb through his brown hair before looking into the mirror. _Maybe Jess will take pity on me and come back_. His reflection shrugged.

After making sure he had his wallet, Jack exited into the hallway. He had half a mind to turn right and try his hand at talking to her again; maybe if there wasn't a great wooden door separating them, they would have a better shot at reconciling. But, before he walked over to the apartment at the end of the hallway, his chocolate eyes rested on the door next to Ava and Michael's: the Conlon apartment. While Spot wasn't as half as intimidating as he was when he was younger and living in Brooklyn, his wife, Rae, was. Jack had never gotten on well with Rae Conlon back when she was Rae Kelly; which, of course, meant that she was one of Jess's closest friends. After the way Rae had come chasing after him with her wooden spoon on Saturday for disturbing Genna's sleep, Jack was not anxious to wake the baby up again.

With a sigh, Jack turned left. He would speak to Jess at the office.

His trip to the _Chronicle _building was uneventful; there were more and more newsies on the streets that he didn't recognize. _Look at how fast a New York minute goes,_ he thought to himself as he watched a kid – no more than eight – offering the morning edition of the _Sun_ to tall man. He was coughing pitifully but Jack could tell that he was faking in order to get the tourist – _With a tan like that and authentic cowboy boots? Man had to be from the West_, Jack thought enviously – to buy his paper for double the price; after all, how often had he seen Dave's kid brother – _Kid? Les is near fifteen and finishing up school soon_ – try that kind of act to con customers? He caught the newsboy's eye and grinned. The tourist had handed the boy a nickel in exchange for the paper.

In a way, Jack missed that sort of life. He had given up selling newspapers in the winter of 1901; he had just past his nineteenth birthday. David had proposed to his longtime girl, Grace. She had accepted and David sought out a job that would earn him more than selling papers or, even, working in a factory. His pal, the reporter, Denton, had set him up with Mr. Jenkins. David got the job and was able to work Jack in with his as well. They pair had been junior reporters with the _Chronicle_ ever since.

The pay was better than could be expected and the job was something that they both did well. Jack, with his street smarts and connections, could always get a scoop. David, with his education, could write an article that caused people to turn to a dictionary. It was a sweet set-up that only got better when they were able to get a job for Grace. Jess had, against her will, gotten a job at a factory near the apartment tenement but Grace had held out on the hope that her acting would take off. When the play season on 1901 ended, David was able to get his fiancée hired as his secretary. However, when Mr. Jenkins found out that they were engaged, Grace was promptly fired. Jess took her place with the condition that no one mentioned how, exactly, she knew the junior reporters.

Sometimes Jack thought that he should never have agreed to that deal. The secretary he first had when he joined the paper was an older woman named Millie. Millie became with child within that first year and a younger replacement was found, Suzanne. Suzy lasted a year before she quit to get married. That's when Cassandra was hired – and the quiet rivalry between the two girls began. As often as he told Jess not to pay any mind to the teenager, he could tell that she was jealous of the younger girl. Or, at least, annoyed at the attention she paid to him.

"Oh, Mr. Kelly!"

Jack, who was walking with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground, looked up in surprise. There, standing right in front of the _Chronicle _building, was one of the girls he was just thinking about. But it wasn't the one he had hoped to see – it was Cassandra. "Morning, Cass," he replied, his words said with much less enthusiasm than hers. However, his tone changed when he looked at the girl's face. It was stained with tears – she had been crying. _Great_. "Is everything alright?"

The girl shook her head, her long brown hair swaying as she did so. She lowered her hazel eyes. "My friend, Cookie, she's been staying with me and my mom for the past few days. You see," she explained, with a slight sniffle and Jack couldn't help but wonder why she was telling him this, "her guy was murdered last week. I've had to help her get through this but," and here's when the tears began to flow again, "the way Danger got killed made me think about how any of us could go at any moment."

Now Jack understood. This must be Cassandra's first dealing with death; he, himself, had thought the same thing when Spot's long-time girlfriend, before he met Rae, had died after following a short bout of tuberculosis. Stripes' death had caused them all a bunch of grief and Spot well, if Rae hadn't talked some sense into the boy, he would have jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge back in the fall 1900. The way she met Spot and fell in love with him while trying to talk him down was the favorite of her stories to tell when she's had a drink too many. But, with Stripes death, they had all been face to face with mortality. He understood exactly what she was feeling. Trying to be sympathetic, he placed a hand on her shoulder. Bending down slightly so that he could see her face, he spoke soothingly to her. "Don't worry, Cassandra. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

Cassandra stopped her crying but didn't lift her head. "You don't understand, Mr. Kelly – Jack. What I meant was, you or I could die at any moment, and I never would have told you exactly how I felt about you." And, before he could react to her statement at all, Cassandra looked up and kissed him squarely on his mouth.


	9. Call me Luke

Title: _Can't Keep Running_

Summary: _It's been five years since the strike, seven since she learned Jack's true history and nine since she said goodbye to Rip – what's in store next for Stress & Jack? Marriage? A Family? Or the return of the one she fears above all others? _

Author's Note: _After a two month break, I decided to work on this again. I guess with all the work I've been doing on _A Virgin's Touch_, as well as the rewrite of CLAK, _Obsession: Cuts like a Knife_, I've gotten back into the Jack/Stress story again. If any of this confuses you, that's because I changed the relationship between Rip & Jess to suit those two stories. You might want to check out _Obsession _first because, in the chapter I uploaded today, I have the pair meeting – and the whole '_il mio cuoro_' starts there. _

Disclaimer: _As I've said countless times before, and I'm sure I'll say it countless times again, I, sadly, do not own any of the newsies. They are © 1992- to Disney, as hard as I try to get them for myself. I do, however, own Jessa/Stress, Luke/Rip, Caitlin/Spindle and Tyler/Danger. Any other character is property of the author I've borrowed them from._

Soul Mates Series: _This is the fourth installment in _Stress & Jack: Soul Mates Series_. It is preceded by Cuts Like a Knife (I), Secrets Behind the Lies (II) and One Year Anniversary (III), in case you would like to read the earlier chapters in their lives. There is also an author's cut of CLAK (Obsession: Cuts like a Knife), as well as Rip's story, A Virgin's Touch. _

--

_Chapter Eight_

--

The kiss did not last very long. Almost right away, Jack knew something was wrong. Cassandra just did not _feel _right. He pulled back and took a step away.

Cassandra did not seem surprised that he broke the kiss, just disappointed. There were still tears welling up in her hazel eyes but there was a triumph in those eyes that had not been there moments ago. She was panting slightly. "Tell me, Jack," she said, forgoing the respectful title of 'Mr. Kelly' in favor of addressing him by his first name, "Tell me that meant nothing to you."

_I _am_ a fool. Jess was right. Damn it_. For a brief second, his mouth was dropped open in surprise. In order to stall, he ran one of his hands through his longish brown hair before shaking his head slowly. "Cassandra, I—"

Though he did not finish his sentence, she knew what he was trying to say – and she did not want to hear it. She lifted her hand as the tears in her eyes twinkled anew. "It's that whore, Jessa, isn't it?"

"Wha – no. It's just that…" So unlike himself, Jack was stumbling over his words. Part of him wanted to reprimand Cassandra for calling Jess a 'whore'. Another part of him wanted to admit that he's known her for half of Cassandra's life – and had loved her for almost as long. But he could not bring himself to do it. Especially now that, for some unknown reason, Jess had left him. He shook his head again. "I'm your boss, Cass. It just wouldn't work," he finally finished. He knew it sounded lame but what else could he do?

The young girl seemed to accept his words. She nodded; the action itself seemed to cause the tears she was holding to spill over but she paid no mind to it. "I guess…I guess I understand. Mister Kelly," she added, almost as an afterthought.

"Good." He placed one of his hands on her shoulder. When he spoke, he adopted more of a fatherly tone – he felt it fit the situation. "Come on, now, Cass. Why don't you get washed up and then meet me in the office. We have a lot of work to do today."

She sniffled slightly before nodding. "Of course, Mr. Kelly." And, without another look at her supervisor, Cassandra entered the _Chronicle _building.

Jack waited for her to begin hurrying up the stairs before turning around. While rubbing his head – he had one hell of a headache beginning; Cassandra's actions coupled with no sleep last night was causing his brain to throb – he searched the streets. His chocolate brown eyes were opened wide but he caught no sign of Jess approaching the building.

_Good_, he thought, more than a little relieved. The way things had been going between them lately, he would not have been surprised if Jess had spied Cassandra's forward embrace. He knew her – she had a tendency to jump to conclusion.

God only knows what kind of conclusions she would jump to if she caught him kissing the younger girl. He was still trying to figure out just what, exactly, caused Jess to grow so upset with him on Friday.

He shook his head before following his secretary into the building. _Maybe luck's beginning to go my way, for a change. _

---

She was almost blinded as she hurried away from the sight. She willed the tears to disappear – she did not want to give anyone the satisfaction of causing her to cry. It was a weakness that she did not want to deal with.

With rough hands, she pushed at her eyes. Her head was lowered as she did so; even if her hands were dropped to her sides, she would not have seen the man standing before her. He saw her, however, but did not move. After all, it was his intention to be blocking her path.

Jess was almost running at that point. Her feet were going as fast as they could while retaining some semblance of ladylike grace. Her dress whirled around her ankles, moving with every feverish step. That is, until she ran into something. A very tall, hard something. A something that was breathing – a something that was alive.

The accidental contact with another person was enough to remove the vision of Jack and Cassandra sharing a kiss from before her eyes. She had hit the person with a bit of force but, whoever it was, they were too quick for her. While an impact like that would normally send her reeling backwards, a pair of strong hands grabbed onto her arms, keeping her on her feet.

At once, Jess felt her cheeks begin to heat up. When the man – for, what sort of woman had hands as strong as those? – let go off her arms, she took a step back and dropped her hands. Shyly, she glanced up at her savior. She was prepared to offer her apologies but, upon making eye contact with the man, she suddenly found herself unable to speak.

He was a tall man – that she knew already, considering her face bumped directly into his chest – with skin much darker than her own. He had longish dark hair, the color of coal, that flopped in his crystal blue eyes; most of his face was hidden by a large cowboy hat (so like the one Jack had when he was younger but, obviously, much more expensive) that kept him shielded from the sun but, even so, she could see the beginnings of a predatory smile that crossed his lips.

_It can't be… _She took another step back before stammering out her appreciation. "Th-thanks, si-sir. I re-really don't know wh-what to say."

At first she thought that maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. That maybe, in the midst of such confusion, she was seeing ghosts that were not there anymore. When he bowed his head thoughtfully before gesturing for her to continue on her way, Jess breathed a quick sigh of relief. _I knew it couldn't be… _

And that's when she heard his murmurs. It was a low whisper; he spoke just as she passed him by. "_Il mio cuoro…_Jessa." He purposely moved to his left as she walked by so that her hip brushed against him.

She froze, nothing more than a few inches separating the two of them. _How, _she thought, _is this possible? It can't be… _That's when she lifted her head again.

Her eyes met his and she found it almost impossible to breathe. He was smiling _that _smile – she had never forgotten it, no matter how hard she tried. She began to shiver but did not move. She could not.

Slowly, so as not to spook her, he raised his hand to his head and removed his hat. His dark hair was flattened to his head but, without the hat, she was able to get a better look at him. While she had not recognized him before, there was no denying it now. _Rip… _

His appearance had changed in the past nine years – the man that stood before her was no longer the boy that used to terrorize her. He was taller – he was more than a head taller than she was – and broad-shouldered; his skin, while always a shade darker than hers, due to his Italian blood, was much darker now. His blue eyes were as piercing as she remembered them to be but not as threatening (_they seemed to have softened over the years_). His face was covered in stubble that, as much as she did not want to admit it, made him look all the more handsome.

But it was his smile that marked the difference. Now that she had a better look at him, she found that it had changed as well – she could no longer describe it as predatory but, rather, kind.

She knew that she was openly staring at him but Rip did not seem to mind. She did, though, and finally shook her head. It effectively broke the trance that he held over her. "Rip?" she whispered. She was not sure if she should remain where she was. For the past nine years she had tried to bury the ghosts of a relationship that broke her when she was thirteen years old. Just like the child she had been, she felt entranced by him.

But she was a woman now, twenty-two years old. She knew that she should just flee – hadn't she been worried about him since she read that article? She was looking at him intently and he looked so _different_. Could she just have been finding an excuse to hate him more, reading more into that article that what was there? Yes, it was odd that she thought he had returned – and he had – but maybe it was just a coincidence.

_Who knows? _

She shivered again. She realized that her hip was still close enough to his thigh to make it look improper. She took a step away, almost reluctantly.

Now, Jess knew why she should hate him. With every fiber of her body, she should hate him. But, in his own twisted way, he _had _loved her, hadn't he? And Jack, she knew now, did not. _Had he ever?_

---

Luke looked almost disappointed as she stepped away from him but, inside, he was excited. In his wildest dreams, he would never expect Jessa to react so well to him. After Harrison had given him the information to find her again, he had not come up with a plan except to just approach her. He was a big man now and, if need be, he could take her down easily. After all, he just wanted to talk to her.

But she had not run from him. In truth, at first, he did not think that she even recognized him. She apologized for bumping into him – which he should have done since he was the one who caused the bumping by standing in her path – and was about to continue going on her way before he confessed his identity. And he didn't have to say his name. A quick reminder of who they both had been was enough: _Il mio cuore _(my heart)…Jessa.

She knew it was him and he knew that she knew. And, yet, she did not run away. She backed away – which was to be expected even if he did not _like _it – but did not run.

Jessa was watching him; in order to give her a better look, he removed his hat. However, while she was watching him, he was watching her.

She had changed over the years – _and for the better_. At the age of twenty-five, he found it awkward to be fantasizing over a thirteen year old child. He knew that she had aged but, without seeing her, his memory of who she was was all he had.

She had gotten a bit taller but was much shorter than he was; she had filled out more and had returned to wearing more feminine clothing. The last time he had seen her, she had traded her hand tailored blouses and skirts for a boy's button down shirt and slacks. He had been so mad at her for that.

Luke still believed that a girl should dress to fit her sex.

Her hair was as lovely as it was back then, but no longer resting loosely down her back; she had it clipped back in an attempt to appear older. He wanted to reach forward and remove the clip but restrained himself. There would be time for that later. _If I play this right… _

That's when he heard her whisper: "Rip?"

He smiled all the deeper for it. _She remembered…and she's still here._ He figured now would be the perfect time to show her that he's changed.

Slowly, he shook his head. "No, Jessa, not 'Rip'. Not anymore. Call me Luke."


	10. A case of almost déjà vu

Title: _Can't Keep Running_

Summary: _It's been five years since the strike, seven since she learned Jack's true history and nine since she said goodbye to Rip – what's in store next for Stress & Jack? Marriage? A Family? Or the return of the one she fears above all others?_

Author's Note: _I'm very grateful for the two reviews I got after posting the last chapter. I've been really into the whole Stress/Rip/Jack character base recently (as you can tell from my recent updates). It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside to know that people still enjoy reading about them._

Disclaimer: _As I've said countless times before, and I'm sure I'll say it countless times again, I, sadly, do not own any of the newsies. They are © 1992- to Disney, as hard as I try to get them for myself. I do, however, own Jessa/Stress, Luke/Rip, Caitlin/Spindle and Tyler/Danger. Any other character is property of the author I've borrowed them from._

Soul Mates Series: _This is the fourth installment in _Stress & Jack: Soul Mates Series_. It is preceded by Cuts Like a Knife (I), Secrets Behind the Lies (II) and One Year Anniversary (III), in case you would like to read the earlier chapters in their lives. There is also an author's cut of CLAK (Obsession: Cuts like a Knife), as well as Rip's story, A Virgin's Touch._

--

_Chapter Nine_

--

Jack, a few moments later, followed Cassandra into the office but did not look at the girl. Instead, he stopped at his desk and grabbed a pad and pencil. He checked to see if there were any messages from Mister Jenkins and when nothing stood out from the mess that was his desk, he quickly left the room.

His quick entry and even quicker exit did not pass by the girl unnoticed. As soon as Jack had left the office, the sniffles began again. But Cassandra refused to let the tears fall; she was not going to waste the moisture when he was not there to witness the cries.

The only way to keep her mind of her humiliation was to work. So, despite the tears that clouded her vision, Cassandra reached for some of the work she had meant to finish before Jessa's fall from Friday. She didn't even notice it when neither the girl nor her boss neglected to show up at work.

--

"No, Jessa, not 'Rip'. Call me Luke." His voice had hardly changed over the years. True, the Italian accent that she knew was almost indistinct but he still had the deepest (and most soothing) voice she had ever heard. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to get lost in his voice before the reality of what he was saying set in.

_Luke…Luke…Luke…_

The trance had been broken. Jess took a step away from him and then another. Her green eyes widened in surprise – or was it fear? She held up her hand, creating a barrier between his body and hers. _I don't know what I was thinking. This is Rip – _Rip – _and I was _listening _to him. No. _"Rip – Luke. I can't… You… No," she stammered.

He placed his leather hat back on top of his hat before extending his hand out to touch her. "Jessa, it's all right. I—"

She jerked her hand away from him, hiding it behind her back. She had been so taken aback at Jack and Cassandra's public embrace that she had not been thinking. Then, when Rip just appeared… It was so easy to forget for those few minutes. She had not seen him in over nine years; she had assumed that she had put her past behind her. The discovery that he might have returned had been shocking but, deep down, she was not sure that he was really there. Yet, he was.

He was there, standing in the middle of a Manhattan street, staring at her as if nothing was wrong. As if they were friends who had amicably parted rather than a broken girl and the abusive lover she spurned. To look at the man in front of her, with his expensive hat and boots, sun beaten features and coy smile, she would never think him to be the monster that terrorized her when she was younger.

But she knew what he was capable of. Long repressed memories of slaps, bruises, cuts and pain came rushing forth; this was Rip Divenize – _Luke _Divenize. She knew what he could do to her – and she was not about to let him do it again.

She shook her head, a loose curl falling forward out of her clip. He took a step forward, his hand still extended. He made to brush the curl away but, before he could, she jumped back again. At that moment, if he touched her, she thought she might get sick all over the side of the road.

Jess opened her mouth to speak but the sudden wave of nausea caused her to clamp it shut. She just shook her head again before running away. She had not known it that morning when she dressed in her yellow frock but the slight slit in the skirt came in handy. She did not stumble nearly as much as she could have.

--

Luke tried hard not to snap at that moment. Honestly, it should have been expected – why would she want to talk to him when all she (obviously) remembered about him was his heavy hand and insatiable lust? He would have to teach her otherwise. And he knew exactly how to do it.

After Jessa was out of his sight – not for the first time, did she run from him; he had almost forgotten how fast she could escape from him when she was nervous – he began to ammend his plan. But, in order to do that, he needed certain information. And there was only one place that he could think to get that information.

He arrived at the _Chronicle _building just in time to watch a man hurry from within. Luke's features darkened as he watched the tall, brunet man, pad and pencil clasped tightly in his right hand, continue down the street. Nine years or five minutes – Luke remembered Jack Kelly. He still had the scar from when Jack turned his own knife against him all those years ago.

His feet started to follow after the man without him even realizing it. Once he did, he paused and took a deep breath. Right now, he needed to focus on Jessa. He would deal with Jack Kelly later.

He took another deep breath and straightened the hand tailored white shirt he was wearing. He stamped his leather boots once before heading back to the _Chronicle _building. It was time to see if Danger's tip proved true.

There was a desk resting in the lobby of the enormous building, manned by an elderly woman. She was a tiny, pinched sort of woman who looked disapprovingly at him as he swaggered into the building. He was not intimidated, though. Luke just pasted a charming grin onto his face and approached her. "Morning, ma'am. I'm here to see a Mister Jack Kelly."

He could feel the beady eyes of the woman as she looked him up and down. She seemed to think that he was harmless because she nodded and drew out a large ledger. She began to flip through the pages until she stopped midway – the 'K' section of the book. One of her small, wrinkled fingers ran down the page as she put her face close to the page to read the writing. Finally she stopped and looked up at him. "Mr. Jack Kelly," she began in a nasally tone, "can be found on the fifth floor, first door on the right. He shares an office with Mr. David Jacobs, his fellow junior reporter."

Luke tipped his cowboy hat at the woman – she did not seem impressed – before heading towards the stairs.

The five flights went by like nothing and soon he was standing just outside the office. He peeked inside. He had, after watching Jack leave and Jessa run off in the opposite direction of the building, hoped that he would be alone. But, when he looked inside the small office, he saw that there was a girl sitting inside.

Her head was down, long chestnut hair covering her face, as she worked on some papers. It was not Jessa, he knew – maybe it was the girl that Harrison mentioned before his death. _There's only one way to find out,_ he thought, and walked into the office. When she didn't lift her head, he knocked against the wall.

Cassandra lifted her head urgently, thinking that maybe Jack had returned back to the office. But, when she caught sight of the man standing just inside the door, she knew it was not Mr. Kelly – but neither was it Mr. Jacobs, Jessa or any of the other staff that worked on this floor.

He was, however, an exceptionally handsome man. Without even realizing that she was doing it, Cassandra began to wipe at her face. She had not bothered to clean up after crying this morning – she had wanted Mr. Kelly to feel guilty – but now she felt unworthy to be looking at this man.

He didn't seem to mind, however, and just smiled. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she replied, feeling the heat come to her cheeks. She always grew flustered around an attractive man. "Can I help you?"

"Yes. I was wondering if a Jessa Rhian works here."

Cassandra had to fight from snorting out her reply. _Of course this man is looking for her… _"Yeah. But she ain't in yet."

_I know_. "Well, that's a shame. I really had to speak to her. You don't have her address handy, do you? It's quite urgent that I speak with her. Maybe I could catch her at home."

She seemed to hesitate just then. Would it be wrong to give out her co-worker's personal information to a stranger? Then he smiled at her again and her inhibitions were gone. With a smile of her own, Cassandra got up from her desk. All the personnel information was kept in Mr. Jacobs' desk.

--

It was not much longer following Rip's departure – with Jessa's address scribbled on a scrap piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand – that David Jacobs arrived at the office. He glanced at his watch as he walked inside. The dial read that it was a quarter to seven; he was fifteen minutes early. Not as early as he would have liked but things had been a little strange since Friday.

He purposely stood outside of the office, resting his head against the white wall. David was not prepared to face both Jessa and Jack. After the big fight at Jack's apartment on Friday, David had been avoiding them both. He did not want to admit – not even to himself – but a part of him, deep down, was oddly glad that the pair had finally split up. He was not sure if it was because he felt it was time that his closest friend finally knew what it was like to be alone (like he had ever since Grace left) or because he was secretly happy that Jess was single.

David sighed and closed his blue eyes. Did harboring feelings for his best friend's (ex?) girl make him a bad person? _I think so._ _I just can't do anything about it. _

"Mr. Jacobs?"

His eyes sprung open once he heard Cassandra's voice; she was standing in the doorway, peering at him. He pulled away from the wall, wincing at the small suction noise his skin made. "Good morning, Miss Cassandra," he said, sounding as if there was nothing odd about a man resting his head against the outer wall of his office. "How are you?"

Cassandra was looking at him strangely. Obviously, she thought something was wrong with the man. "Things are going good," she answered slowly. She cleared her throat and turned her face downward. David could see, from that angle, that there were tear stains running down her cheeks. She had been crying earlier. "Mr. Kelly had already been in and out of the office," she added.

He hurriedly took his eyes off of her. If she thought something was odd about him before, she would think he was even weirder if she caught him staring at her. Besides, something about the way she mentioned Jack told him that he was the reason behind her tears. _Oh, Jack. Just getting along with the ladies, aren't we? _"Good, good…" he answered. He absently patted the top of his curly brown hair. "And Miss Jessa?"

The girl flinched and her lip curled. She did not particularly like Jess – he knew that; from her actions and attitude, it was obvious – but she had never made her disdain so open before. David was beginning to really wonder what had happened before he arrived at the office. "She ain't here yet. Probably going to be late again."

He nodded. If there was one thing that Cassandra had been trying to get her counterpart sacked for, it was her tardiness. She was annoyed that David always overlooked Jess's lateness and he knew it. "Well, I'll talk to her when she gets in," he said, trying to appease the girl. He hated to see a woman cry.

Cassandra reciprocated his nod and moved inward so that he could pass by her. As soon as he was standing before his desk, she turned around and went back to her own without another word. She had been in the middle of typing up some of Jack's letters when she heard the soft _plunk _just outside the door – the sound David Jacobs' head had made when he placed it up against the wall.

Though Cassandra had taken her seat and had returned to her work, David remained standing in front of his desk. One of the drawers was slightly open and he _knew _that he had not left it that way when he closed up the office later Friday night.


	11. Jack and Caity, be damned

Title: _Can't Keep Running_

Summary: _It's been five years since the strike, seven since she learned Jack's true history and nine since she said goodbye to Rip – what's in store next for Stress & Jack? Marriage? A Family? Or the return of the one she fears above all others?_

Author's Note: _Goodness, this is not where I wanted to go with this chapter. I planned on continuing with the storyline but decided that it might be better to give a little bit of background on what happened to Luke and Caitlin during the events of One Year Anniversary. As you might recall, they left for California during Secrets Behind the Lies; that gives me seven years to make up for. Yes we know that they're married – what else? Anywho, that's the purpose behind this chapter. Next chapter, though, gets interesting. Promise, Rae – you're going to have a fun appearance, too :)_

Disclaimer: _As I've said countless times before, and I'm sure I'll say it countless times again, I, sadly, do not own any of the newsies. They are © 1992- to Disney, as hard as I try to get them for myself. I do, however, own Jessa/Stress, Luke/Rip, Caitlin/Spindle and Tyler/Danger. Any other character is property of the author I've borrowed them from._

Soul Mates Series: _This is the fourth installment in _Stress & Jack: Soul Mates Series_. It is preceded by Cuts Like a Knife (I), Secrets Behind the Lies (II) and One Year Anniversary (III), in case you would like to read the earlier chapters in their lives. There is also an author's cut of CLAK (Obsession: Cuts like a Knife), as well as Rip's story, A Virgin's Touch._

--

_Chapter Ten_

--

Luke looked from the piece of paper in his hand to the tenement building that stood before him and back, just to verify that he had, indeed, gotten the address right. The structure was so unlike the ranch home he had left back in Albuquerque that he almost could not believe it. _This is where Jessa lives?_

He shook his head as he folded the up the note and slipped it into his right pocket. The scrap of paper nestled itself beside his knife and he grinned, withdrawing his hand and rubbing his forehead. He stared up at the building, his eyes narrowed at the offending structure for another moment before pulling his hat down low, covering his icy eyes. _Just in case._

Luke entered the open doors of the building, relieved to see that no one was hanging about. He flicked the brim of his hat up, smirking. It was, he knew, still early in the morning and most self-respecting people had jobs. However, by the look of the somewhat dilapidated building, he was not too sure that the people who occupied it were self-respecting.

The lobby he found himself in was small, shabby and decorated with two moth-eaten chairs and a single desk. An oil lamp, dimmed so that only a faint flicker of a flame could be seen against the glass encasement of the lamp, was perched in the middle of the beaten wooden structure. It beckoned him inward, as if inviting him into the rundown building.

He looked about the unimpressive room before his gaze landed on the stairwell just off to the right. It was dark on the steps but not too dark that he needed take the oil lamp with him, for which he was glad. Whether New Mexico had spoiled him or Luke had just forgotten how distasteful the New York slums were, he did not want to spend any more time in a tenement such as this one – and that included getting lost on the stairways on his way to Jessa's apartment. "I'm going to have to convince _mio_ _cuore _to choose rooming with me over this hole," he murmured to himself as he began to walk up the stairs, squinting in case there were rats or other vermin – including sleepers – blocking his way.

The stairs were cramped and short. Not for the first time since he had disembarked from his train Luke felt stifled, as if he was being choked. It had been a fanciful notion, naught but a whim of his, to finally place his demons behind him and head out West when he was eighteen but the move from Far Rockaway, Queens to San Francisco, California and, later, Albuquerque, New Mexico had turned out to be the best move he could make. The open air and hard work he endured taught him further control of his emotions; he had them in check and, with the exception of Danger Harrison, he had not been angry in quite some time – and Danger's death had not been out of anger but out of protection. He had not wanted Jessa to know he was in town just yet.

Caitlin had been quite influential in helping him grow past the issues that had plagued him following his younger sister's murder when he was fourteen. After resigning himself to the idea that he was meant to be with Caity, he had developed a gracious affection towards the woman. It was a practical marriage and, after all, no one had ever known him better than her. That did not mean that he loved her – he did not feel anything more than a kinship with her. Love… that emotion he had reserved for his mother, Carolina, his sister, Maria, and Jessa.

_Jessa._

Though he was still on the staircase, somewhere between the third and fourth floor, Luke paused and leaned up against the wall. It was dirty and, somewhere inside of his mind, he knew it was making the left side of his tailored white shirt filthy. He did not pay any attention to that; his thoughts, instead, were on Jessa.

It had been seven years since he left New York behind. Just like when he had forsaken Harlem for Queens in 1895, he had been led to believe that Queens, as well as all of New York, held no further promise for him. Things had progressed on a path he had not been able to anticipate; Jessa had escaped his grasp, Caity had learned of his infidelity. There was nothing to do then but leave. It took him two whole years; it took him until 1897, to understand that he needed to flee from New York in order to find the salvation he was still searching for. When he was younger, he had assumed that Jessa was his salvation. And then she had left him.

He could not blame her, really, for leaving him behind, even if he did not understand that then. He had been greedy and insatiable. Rather than see her as who she truly was, he saw her as Maria reborn. When she was thirteen she had resembled his dead sister so much so that he was able to convince himself that she was meant to be his. He did not try to get to know her; he forced her to love him instead. Honestly, he should not have been surprised that, after months of constant threats and abuse, she fled Far Rockaway in favor of sanctuary in Manhattan.

He had gone after her, of course, but he went after her with the sole intent of dragging her back with him. It was only when Jack Kelly, a mere scrap of a boy at the time, had stabbed him – ironically with his own knife; the knife that killed both Mack Turner and Danger Harrison – that he seemed to understand where he had lost control. He could not force someone to love him. It only took him sixteen years to understand that.

That did not mean, however, that he was giving up on the girl. He loved her, that much was certain. Whether it was because of her resemblance to Maria or the fact that he wanted what he could not have, Luke loved her – and foolishly promised himself that he would have her… or no one would. Such a delusion had stolen two years of his life until finally he proceeded to leave Queens in 1897. And he did so only to further realize his plans of revenge; he had read of a chance to earn quick money out West and thought that it might be easier to earn Jessa's affection if he was wealthy.

He did not go alone on his journey. Caity, who after learning of Luke's affair with Jessa, took great care to keep his every action in her sight and followed Luke out West without a question. They brought quite a few of their closest comrades with them, though quite a few were taken under threat of retribution should they deny the offer. Danger had refused to come; his insubordination had led to the stab wound, inflicted on him by Caity. Of course, none of them knew the truth behind his intent; Caity understood that they were heading out to California in order to earn money in order to destroy Jessa's life. _Foolish girl she was_, Luke thought, smirking slightly as he remained in the stairwell. _But then again, so was I._

Jessa was on his mind constantly those first two years. The thought of her smiling face, vulnerable and sweet, far before he had broken her, kept him going. The conditions in California were hard and did not yield the results that he had expected. Within that first year, they lost more than half of their comrades: Moneybags and Corner died of Tuberculosis shortly after arriving in California; Wren buckled under the workload and perished; Irish, following the loss of Wren, ran off and had never been heard of again. By the time Luke decided that California was not worth their time and effort, some time in the middle of 1899, there was only him, Caity, Rocky and Ace left.

Rather than return to New York, they moved on to New Mexico. Luckily for the quartet, New Mexico was much better than California. They settled in Albuquerque, working for a man called Santa Rosa who took them into his Ranch as part of their wage. He was an elderly man who appreciated their work ethic; coming from the New York City slums, all four of them did what they had to – Caity, especially. Following Luke's suggestion that they should thank their host graciously, Caity began to sleep in Guillermo Santa Rosa's bed. Luke had a plan by then; it was about this time, shortly after arriving in New Mexico, that Jessa began to slip from his mind. What did it matter, really, if a thirteen year old girl from Queens had jilted him? He, at least, still had Caity; it was not love but it was companionship.

It was no surprise then, when Santa Rosa died in 1901 under 'mysterious circumstances' – Luke had gotten tired of waiting – that his last will expressed that Spindle received everything of his. He had been a widower with no children who had grown quite attached of the red-head the last two years of his life; he rewarded her as such upon his death.

Santa Rosa had been a fairly successful man: Caity received the house, the cattle, the livestock and the meager amount of savings the old man, who had been quite frivolous with money, had accumulated. As soon as her possession of the property was official, Luke married her. He had always known that it would come down to that, that he and Caitlin were fated to end up together. He had put it off for as long as he could – in January of 1902, they were married.

Shortly after the wedding, Rocky decided to return back to the City. He felt slighted that, after all his hard work and dedication, he received nothing from Santa Rosa. Luke offered both Rocky and Ace permanent and well-paying jobs on the Ranch but it was not the same. He found it unfair that Luke ended up the owner of the Ranch solely because his new wife was a practiced whore. Ace, the closest thing to a friend that Caity had ever had, remained at the Ranch.

It was a sweet set-up, Luke had to admit, better than he could have imagined. He had money, a home and a wife, albeit one that he viewed more as a lover than someone he loved. He had not had any nightmares featuring dead prostitutes or perverted newsboys in a while. Jessa was a pleasant memory rather than a burning obsession. For the first time in over ten years, since Maria had died in 1893, Luke Divenize was content.

And it was not too soon after that that the letter from Tyler "Danger" Harrison arrived and everything that Luke had worked toward stalled and stopped. After years of putting everything behind him, there was a temptation that he could not resist. Though the letter did not explicitly state it, Luke knew that Jessa had been found; he could try again.

To be honest, it was not his intent to go after the girl at first. His first thought was to destroy the letter before Caity got wind of it. Even seven years after leaving the East Coast behind them, Caity still grew suspicious. Her utter faith in him had been shattered when she find him with Jessa and she still harbored the fear that Luke would leave her for someone else. She may have forgotten her silly notion of revenge against the younger girl when she was in New Mexico but he was not sure that she would remain as saintly as that if she was in Manhattan. And Luke knew that, if he returned to Manhattan to see the girl, Caity would follow him as soon as she could.

He did not destroy the letter, though. He hid it. It was tantalizing, with only just a hint of what Danger wanted to tell him. He tried to put the offer of 'interesting information' behind him but he could not. He was too intrigued by what Danger knew.

Without Caity knowing what he was doing, Luke began to write letters and send telegrams back East. Within no time he had learned the motive behind Danger's letter: he had gotten himself in over his head with a few shady characters and was looking for quick money. No doubt, he thought Luke to be the avenue.

The data he gleaned from various people he knew in New York interested Luke almost as much as the teaser note that Danger had sent. If he hoped to sell his information to Luke then Danger must think that it was worth something. Such a realization made Luke even more certain that this had to do with Jessa.

He sent Danger a letter the next day, telling the man to meet him at midnight in Manhattan on the 30th of July. He would be ready to listen. Then, after telling Caity a sham story about needing to return East for the funeral of a close friend – he told her that Trace McMahon, a boy he knew in Harlem had died; in truth, he had cleaned himself up and was living in the lower East Side with his wife and a few kids – he set out on the train. He was not sure how long that excuse would keep Caitlin with Ace in New Mexico; he did not give her a date to expect him back home.

He was not sure if he wanted to return home.

Luke took that moment to remove his leather cowboy hat again and wiped his forehead. It was humid and hot in the stairwell and his sensation of being closed in had only increased as he let his memories overtake him. He had not thought at all about what he would do if Danger's information _really _concerned Jessa Rhian. When it did, he snapped – Danger was murdered. He had been a loose end that he could not afford.

Something about being back in New York had brought the old Luke Divenize back.

And now… Now he was standing in the cramped stairwell of a rundown tenement building, preparing to confront Jessa a second time. Their first encounter after nine years – their first face-to-face; Jessa had no way of knowing that he had been following her since Friday – had not been near long enough for his taste but it had done what he had been afraid of.

He wanted her even more than ever now. And he planned on getting her_. Jack Kelly and Caitlin Scott-Divenize, be damned_.


End file.
